In Transit
by devonshire64
Summary: The boys are in for more then they bargained for when the hunt for a spirit brings them face to face with the elusive FTRA, and something else they weren't expecting.
1. Chapter 1

_hello there, everyone. here is the first chapter of my newest story. i know, it is a bit short, but the other chapters will be longer, i promise. _

_This is a stand alone for me, and not part of either of my previous series. for timeline purposes, it takes place some time in early season 1, so yes, it will be old school supernatural. _

_Let me know what you all think of the intro. _

**D: as always, supernatural belongs to the great Kripke. this is all just for fun. **

**IN TRANSIT**

Chapter 1

Sam huffed in the passenger seat of the impala, trying in vein to get his think-headed brother to listen to reason. He was determined to get through to the older man. Even if it only happened once in his life, he was going to get Dean to listen to him. But well, Dean seemed to have other plans, and it was just making the twenty two year old angrier with each passing moment. Hell, Sam though, listening to his brother detail the not-at-all-planned-out plan he had somehow come up with, Dean had probably concocted this entire hunt just to torture him.

"Dean, no!"

"Come on, Sammy."

"No."

"It'll be fun."

"No, it won't."

"It'll be exciting."

"No, it will be smelly, dirty and dangerous."

"It's the transportation of America."

"No it isn't."

"Come on, we'll get to see the country."

"I've seen the country, many, many times."

"We can sing hobo songs."

"Dean!"

"What, Sam? This hunt's gonna be a cake-walk."

"Well now you just jinxed us."

"I did not!"

"How do you even know that this is anything supernatural?"

"Dude, the FTRA."

"Yeah, I'm still waiting for the important part."

"It's like one of the greatest American urban legends."

"Dean, it's something that was made up by a group of guys in the 80s."

"Yeah, but now there're people dying."

"People are always dying, especially on those trains. It's dangerous."

"Yeah, but dying of fright? I mean come on, man, these people were so scared their hair turned white."

"That doesn't mean they were all killed by something supernatural."

"So what, there's just a freaky looking dude running around scaring the living daylights out of people?"

"Well, when you put it that way."

"Sammy, I know you wanna do this."

"Why the hell would I want to do this, Dean? There's no beds, jumping trains is not only stupid, but did I mention dangerous. And, on top of it all, we're gonna be surrounded by crazy, possibly homicidal people. So, tell me again, why would I want to do this?"

"Because it'll be cool. Tell me you never wanted to be a freight-hopper when you were a kid."

"I never wanted to be a freight-hopper when I was a kid."

"Wuss."

"Dean, what the hell is so appealing about any of this?"

"It's freedom man. No one knows where you are, you never know where you might end up, what might happen next."

"Dean, you just described our actual lives."

"Come on, dude, stop being such a wet blanket."

"I'm being rational."

"You're being a kill joy."

"We don't even know what we're up against."

"Angry spirit."

"How do you know?"

"What else could it be."

"Lots and lots of other things."

"You're just pissed because the last hunt you found was a bust."

"We're not keeping score."

"Oh, we're not, are we? So, the fact that your 'elusive black dog' was a homeless rottweiler has nothing to do with your current mood."

"No, nothing."

"Or the fact that I found the wendigo hunt while you were looking up something about, what was it. Gremlins?"

"It was a real hunt."

"It was an excuse to go to the beach."

"Whatever. At least the hunts I find don't involve us sleeping in dirt for two weeks."

"That's an exaggeration."

"No it isn't."

"We won't be sleeping in dirt, we'll be in boxcars."

"There's a difference?"

"Yes, Francis, there's a difference."

Sam just huffed and slid further down into the passenger seat, knowing there was no way that he would be able to change his stubborn brother's mind. Screw the fact that it was dangerous as hell, or the fact that they had no idea what they were up against. Oh no, Dean wanted to go freight-hopping and he wasn't going to let anything, not even his very logical little brother, stand in his way.

"You're a sore loser." Dean chided, smiling as he stared out the window.

"Can we just drop this."

"I'm just stating a fact."

"Yes, well, it's been stated."

"What's got you so worked up?"

"Dean, we have no idea what we're up against."

"I already told you, angry spirit."

"Alright then, shotgun, what's the spirit's name?"

"If you're so curious why don't you start researching over there, geek-boy."

"That's my point."

"That you're lazy. Shouldn't be so hard on yourself, Sammy."

"Not that point. The point that you have no idea what we're up against."

"We'll figure it out."

"When, after you've been stabbed? After you've been thrown through a wall? Pushed down a set of stairs?"

"We'll be on trains, they don't have stairs."

"Alright, so after you're thrown from a moving train?"

"Dude, none of that is gonna happen."

"Dean, that stuff always happens. You wanna know why?"

"Not really."

"Because you don't look before you leap."

"That's the beauty of it, the bad guys never know what I'm gonna do next."

"I never know what you're gonna do next."

"So I keep you sharp." Dean grinned, shooting his exasperated brother a look.

"I'm not gonna win am I?"

"I thought it wasn't a competition."

Sam just rolled his eyes, pulling out his laptop and admitting defeat. "So, what do you know about this case?"

"Twelve deaths, all along the BSNF Railways' Hi-line. A frequent favorite of the FTRA, might I add. All within the last five years."

"And they all died of fright?"

"Official cause of death is listed as heart attack. But yeah, they were all found frozen in a state of shock. Eyes wide open, hair snow white, the whole sha-bang."

"Maybe their hair was white because they were old."

"All different ages, too. Youngest being fifteen, oldest fifty five."

"Wait, fifteen?"

"Yeah, apparently the new thing is for rebellious teens to go freight-hopping. Friends found him."

"And no one knows what might be causing it?"

"Nope. Whole thing's been pretty hush, hush. There're probably more deaths than I can find."

"And it all started five years ago?"

"As far as I can tell."

"Any strange deaths that year?"

"Yeah, but none that match Mr. Scary as shit ghost's M.O."

"Is there anything else it could be, other than a spirit?"

"Sam, we just discussed this."

"And I want to discuss it again."

"No, I've never heard of anything doing this before."

"So, if it is a spirit. And that's a pretty big, if, in my book. Then why would it start killing people this way?"

"Maybe it thinks it's fun. I mean, there are a lot of twisted people in that community."

"Then you should fit right in." Sam mumbled, powering up his laptop.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Dean just rolled his eyes, shooting his brother another look before turning up the radio, the impala chewing up the asphalt beneath its tires.

666666666666

Three hours later found the boys in another dingy motel room on another forgotten highway. It was becoming as familiar to Sam as breathing, as routine as waking in the morning. Drive, eat, sleep, hunt, start cycle over again. For years Sam had tried to get away from it all, had tried to leave that lonely and repetitive life behind, but ever since Jessica, ever since his brother cam back for him, the youngest Winchester found a sort of comfort in the open road, a twisted home in the motels that littered the wayside.

It was strangely normal to him, the hum of the impala's engine, the smell of freshly cut fields, the taste of coffee in the morning. It was all like waking up again, like going home after a long trip. And, despite himself, Sam found himself falling back into it all. Truth be told, he had missed his brother dearly while he was away. But his father had slammed that door closed, had cut him out of the family, and Sam was terrified that Dean had done the same.

He wasn't sure if his brother would answer if he called, wasn't sure if Dean would welcome his wayward brother back into his life. And he was afraid to face the truth of it all. And so, he pushed it all away, pretended that his family didn't matter, that they were something left in the shadows of his past. But, as soon as his brother broke into his apartment, as soon as Dean stumbled back into his life, Sam found that he was suddenly whole again, suddenly the Sam Winchester he had always wanted to be. That was, until Jessica died, until the second best thing in his life was stolen under the cover of fire and darkness.

"Earth to, Sammy."

"Huh, what?" Sam started, his brother's voice bringing him back to the present.

"You ok over there?"

"Yeah, just thinking."

"Thinking? You looked like you were comatose."

"Well, it was deep thinking."

"Yeah, sure. So, did you find anything else out about the case?"

"Nope. Still a big pile of nothing."

"So, angry spirit then."

"Dean, no info doesn't automatically mean spirit."

"Oh yeah, it could mean black dog, too."

"Shut up."

"Is that any way to talk to you're awesome as hell older brother?"

"Yes."

"Well, you better get typing over there, geek-boy, because our train leaves in the morning."

"I really think we should know what this is before we got jumping on trains."

"Then get moving. Time's a ticking." Dean chided, flipping on the television.

"So, Dean." Sam began a few minutes later, eyeing his brother as he typed. He still had one card left to play and he was just hoping that he would be able to bluff his way out of this whole ill-fated hunt. He couldn't understand why he had such a bad feeling about it, all he knew was that they needed to stay away.

"Yeah?"

"Never-mind."

"What?"

"It's nothing."

"It's obviously something, spit it out."

"It's just, these train yard are patrolled regularly."

"Your point?"

"Well, a car like the impala, you can't really leave it anywhere. Especially around here."

"That's low."

"What?"

"Trying to use my baby to get out of this."

"I was just thinking of its well-being."

"You were using her."

"It's not a her, it's an it."

"Well, just to put your worried mind to rest. I rented a garage to keep _her_ in while we're on the train."

"Really?" Sam mumbled, hope slipping. He really was going to go freight-hopping.

"Yeah. And that was so below the belt, dude."

"No it wasn't."

"You just threatened my baby."

"I did not, I was stating a fact."

"You could have been nicer about it. Telling me she was gonna get stripped for parts. I'll have nightmares now, you know."

"You're so full of shit."

"Low, Sammy, real low."

"Whatever."

"My poor impala, sitting up on blocks. It's enough to make a man cry, dude."

"Now who's over exaggerating."

"Nightmares, Sammy, nightmares."

"You're about to go freight-hopping with a mysterious bad guy."

"Angry spirit."

"Mysterious bad guy, and your car on blocks is giving you nightmares."

"Never get between a man and his machine, Sammy. How'd you feel if I pawned your laptop."

"You'd be eating steak through a straw."

"Yeah right, what are you gonna do, think me to death?" Dean laughed, turning back to the television.

"Well, keep your hands off my laptop and you won't have to find out."

At that Dean turned from the tv, his eyes mischievous. "Try and stop me." Dean began, reaching across the small space between the beds and slapping the back of the laptop.

"Dude, knock it off."

"Make me."

"Do you want me to research the hunt or let you act like an idiot?"

"Like I said before, Sammy. Sore loser." Dean smiled again, slamming closed the laptop before turning back to the television, pushing the volume up to near deafening levels.

Sam just scowled, pushing back open the computer and typing with far more force than necessary. He still had a lot of research to do, not at all convinced it was an evil spirit they were dealing with, or even anything supernatural, for that matter. There were lots of things that could kill a person in that fashion, both human and supernatural, and he wanted to be sure he knew what they were up against. After all, it was usually is stubborn as hell big brother that ended up on the wrong end of the fight, and he was determined to get Dean out of this hunt alive. Unless, Sam though, eyeing his brother as the porno he was watching came through loud and clear, he killed him first.


	2. Chapter 2

_First off, thank you all so much for the great reviews, they really do mean alot to me. secondly, sorry i didnt really describe what the FTRA actually was, i always forget that some urban legends arent as widely known as others._

_anyway, here is a little recap: the FTRA stands for freight train riders of america, and it was first started by a group of homeless vietnam vets in a bar in the washington state in the 80s. it was just a group of friends that decided to name themselves, but over time it has changed. though many, many people say that the group doesnt exist at all, some people claim that it does and it is very well organized, and resposible for many deaths and disappearences. but, to this day, there is still no solid proof of the group's existance, or any evidence to link it to any violence at all. So really, it is a modern day urban legend and some people even claim that it was made up to try and scare people away from freight-hopping. _

_so, once again, that you all for the great reviews, and as always, let me know what you think. :)_

**IN TRANSIT**

Chapter 2

Sam watched the trains running through the yard, staring down each and every machine like it was his life long enemy. He hadn't figured out anything new is his mad dash of research, and, instead of making Dean rethink the hunt like a normal person, it didn't seem to phase the older man one bit. Sam just wished he could find some way to get his older brother to listen to reason, to get his head out of the clouds for just a little while. But Dean was like a dog with a bone when he found a hunt, and Sam knew there was nothing he could do about it.

But Sam just didn't know why his brother was so gun ho about this hunt in particular. He knew his brother liked to move around, knew the older man had trouble staying in one place, but there was a very thick and visible line between traveling and freight-hopping. And it was a line Sam didn't want to cross. There were just too many things that could go wrong, too many dangers that had nothing at all to do with whatever the hell they were actually hunting.

Despite everything, though, the youngest Winchester still found himself standing in the cold and dreary yard waiting for the next train to come roaring in before him. The impala was safely stowed away and his big brother was standing next to him, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. Oh yes, there was no turning back now, no calling a do over. They were going to do this, whether he liked it or not.

"Ready, Francis?"

"Stow it, dude."

"You're not still worried, are you?"

"No, Dean, of course not. I mean, we still know nothing about this hunt, but what's there to worry about." Sam mumbled sarcastically, the sound of the nearing train making his heart beat faster.

"Well, at least you're not still worried." Dean smirked, turning towards the approaching train. He hiked the duffle further up on his shoulder, preparing to board the roaring beast.

Sam just sighed, keen eyes searching the yard around him as the locomotive made its way down the tracks. He and Dean were hidden behind a large pile of logs, the pre-dawn light sending shadows creeping across the gravel around them. But Sam knew that he and his brother weren't the only ones hiding in the shadows. If he had to guess he would have to say that there were probably at least a dozen other people hiding out in the train yard, all trying to avoid the police, and each other, as they hitched a ride on the incoming train.

It was a recipe for disaster, and Sam could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. They really had no idea how many people this thing had killed, or exactly when it had started. And that was the trouble when hunting in a transient community. Ghosts followed patterns, were born out of the places they had been, the routines they had become accustom to. But now all that was gone, missing from this world, and Sam didn't know quite how to take it. After all, if it was a spirit, there was no way of knowing where it was buried, or even if it was buried. The life of freight-hoppers was a life lived on the edge of existence, on the very outskirts of society. And the youngest Winchester had to admit that it was a lot like the life of a hunter, and he could suddenly see why it was so appealing to his brother.

Dean needed to roam, needed to be free, it was something in his very blood and bones. And Sam was sure it was something that was there even before their father became a hunter. Dean was just a natural nomad, his life on the road defining him, shaping him, making him who he was. Dean needed the rumbled of an engine beneath his feet, needed the wind against his face, the big sky above his head. And, even though he had that, Sam knew that everyone in the world yearns for something different, yearns to spend just a little bit of time outside of their normal lives. And for Dean, the only thing that offered him the space and freedom he needed beside hunting, was freight-hopping.

Sam relaxed a little as he looked back over his brother, seeing the eager man in a different light. Dean had given him so much, the least he could do was give him something back, give him something he had obviously wanted for a very long time. Because, Sam knew, that while he craved normal, his brother craved adventure.

"Alright, you remember what I told you?" Sam began, both brothers inching their way towards the tracks. The twenty two year old had spent half the night scouring every web site he could find about freight-hopping safely. Well, as safely as anyone can board a moving train. He had then spent the other half of the night trying to get a very giddy Dean to memorize every move he was supposed to make. Because Sam would be damned if his brother got hurt before the damn hunt even got started.

"Yes, Dad." Dean sighed, though the smile was still visible on his face.

"Three points of contact."

"Yeah, yeah."

"That's either two hands and one foot, or one hand and two feet."

"I can count to three, you know. And besides, how fast's the thing gonna be going, like twenty miles an hour? I think I can handle it."

"Sure, Superman, it'd be like a nice little warm up jog."

"You don't think I can make it on that train." Dean stated, raising his eyebrows.

"I'm just trying to be safe." Sam began, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Twenty bucks says I get on and you don't."

"I'm not gonna bet you."

"Thirty."

"Dean, no."

"Chicken. Thirty-five."

"Would you just shut up and get ready."

"Forty."

"Dean."

"Forty-five."

"You know what, smart-ass, let's make it fifty."

"Oooo, Sammy's getting mouthy. Fifty it is, little brother. And I'm gonna want that in nice small bills."

"Dude, get your mind out of the gutter." Sam rolled his eyes, moving towards the tracks as the train barreled in on top of them.

Sam glanced around him as both he and Dean began to run town the tracks, the train still a good five hundred meters behind them but approaching fast. He could see handfuls of other people doing the same, all still masked in the pre-dawn shadows. It was like riding a roller coaster, the sound of the approaching engine was deafening, the rumble of the nearing steel causing the ground beneath his feet to quake. In mere moments they were going to have to grab hold of whatever they could and hold on, hoping that neither police, nor dangerous obstacles would be waiting in their path.

The wind that came with the locomotive nearly forced Sam to his knees, his heart beating faster and faster as he glanced at the beast beside him. He wasted no more than a second looking for the ladder before reaching out, holding onto the cold metal as tightly as he could. The instant he gripped the rung his feet were torn from the ground, his tall frame stumbling for a fraction of a second before he managed to get a foot up on a lower rung. Only then did he turn to find his brother, a smile breaking out across his face despite himself.

Dean had missed his first attempt, ending up on a ladder a good ten cars back. Sam waved at his now scowling brother, getting a one fingered salute in return before he climbed into the waiting boxcar.

6666666666666

Dean cured again as he pulled himself into the boxcar, his right hand already swelling as he pulled the door shut. He didn't think he had broken it, but whatever he did, it sure hurt like hell. And Sam's cocky grin wasn't helping matters at all. After all, Dean was certain that it would be the other way around, that nervous little Sam would be the one face first in the dirt, while his cool as hell brother rode the side of the train. Well, that was the way he had always pictured it in his head, at least. But now, well now he was out fifty bucks, and a whole lot of pride.

He checked over his blue and swollen wrist again, really, really hoping that he hadn't broken it. He pulled out his small first aid kit as he sat in the dirty car, smirking at all the preparations his little brother had insisted on making. It looked like Sam had been preparing for war when he was backing both their duffles, Dean certain that they wouldn't need at least half of the junk he was stuffing into them. But then, personal first aid kits had sounded really stupid until about thirty seconds ago, so maybe the other crap Sam had somehow managed to pack into the bags would come in handy, too. Not that he would ever tell Sam that.

He had just finished wrapping his wrist in an ace bandage when his phone started to ring. "Calling to gloat?"

"Not entirely. You alright, man?"

"I'm fine." But a sudden jolt from the train, and an involuntary hiss gave him away.

"What's wrong?" Dean cursed when he heard the fear and uncertainty in his brother's voice. And if he knew Sammy, he was probably blaming himself for laughing at him a few minutes before.

"Nothing."

"Dean, what the hell's wrong with you?"

"I hurt my wrist. But, it's cool."

"Just a sprain?"

"Uh, I certainly hope so."

"How many cars back were you?"

"I have no idea, Sam, they were call kind of flying by me a little fast."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Look, Dean, I'm making my way back to you so just sit tight."

"Really, sit tight? I was thinking about going for a stroll."

"Would you be serious. You know if your wrist is broken we're getting off."

"No, Sam, we're hunting down this bastard, then we're getting off."

"We'll talk about it when I get there."

"You talk, I'll ignore you." But all he was met with was a huff and a dial tone.

Fifteen minutes later Sam showed up, red faced and huffing but thankfully still in one piece. The only way to move between the cars was to climb along the outsides of them and, judging by the look on his little brother's face, it wasn't something he had enjoyed doing. But, if Dean was being honest with himself, he was glad to be back in the same car as he brother.

Despite the four painkillers he had taken and the splint on his wrist, his arm was still swollen and still hurt like hell, and he was beginning to wonder if he would actually be able to move from car to car without getting himself killed.

"Hey, Sam, how's it going?"

"Peachy." He mumbled trying to flatted down his windblown mop of hair.

"Having fun yet?"

"No. Let me see your arm." Sam began, kneeling by his brother's side.

"I told you already, it's fine."

"You'd say that if it fell off."

"I would not."

"Wanna bet."

"Fifty bucks."

"I wasn't being serious. Besides, you already owe me fifty, wouldn't want to take all your money." Sam stated, slowly unwrapping his brother's wrist.

Dean tried and failed to hold back another hiss when his little brother began to poke and prod at his wrist, turning it in ways Dean was more than sure it wasn't supposed to go.

"Take it easy, Ratchet."

"Sorry. Dean, I think you broke it."

"No, it's just a bad sprain."

"Well, bad sprain or break, it's still messed up."

"Thank you, Doctor."

Sam just rolled his eyes as he re-bandaged the wrist, doing a much better job than Dean had a short time before. And, while it still hurt like hell, it was a little more bearable now that the split was properly done.

"So." Sam began, leaning back against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with Dean. "What's our next move?"

"We hunt ourselves a bad guy."

"This was the same line all those other people died on?"

"Same line, same train."

"Did you see anything while I was out almost getting killed?"

"Nope. EMF is nil, too."

"So, basically all we know is: one, we haven't seen it yet, two it hasn't been in here recently or the EMF would have picked it up, and three the only real clue we have is that people die of fright on this train."

"Yeah, I think we need to find some of the regulars. Did you pass anyone on your way here?"

"Uh yeah, there's a car about four back that has three teenagers in it, but I didn't really stay to chat."

"Anyone else?"

"I saw more boarding, but I don't know where they are right now."

"Alright, so first thing's first, we head back to the kids."

"No, you sit here and rest. You're gonna need your arm when we're out there."

"I'm fine, Sam. Besides, I can hang onto you if I need to."

"Oh yeah, so we both fall off a speeding train."

"In for a penny, in for a pound."

"Look. The next stop is ten hours away. Just rest for a bit, let the painkillers work there magic, and then we'll go."

"What if they move."

"They seemed pretty impressed that I was doing it, I don't think they're gonna try. They seemed fairly new at it."

"Oh great, so now we have an angry spirit, maybe killer FTRA if they exist and a bunch of kids to look out for."

"Oh yeah, this hunt just keeps getting better and better."

Both brothers sighed, leaning back and resting as they prepared to make their next move, completely unaware of the entity that was slowing moving along the speeding train.


	3. Chapter 3

_thank you all once again for the great reviews, they really do mean alot to me. i hope you enjoy the next chapter. :)_

**IN TRANSIT**

Chapter 3

Sam sat cross-legged, his back against the wall, laptop on his knees as the train rolled down the tracks. He had been trying to see if there was anything he had missed but his searches were still turning up the same old thing over and over again. Mysterious murders, tagging associated with the FTRA, and now people dying of fright along this lonely stretch of track. But there had to be something more, some place to start this hunt, because, obviously just hopping on the train hadn't done the trick.

So far there wasn't a single bit of evidence that anything supernatural was going on, but something in the pit of Sam's stomach told him otherwise. Right up until he boarded the train he hadn't believed there was an actual hunt. He had gone along with it simply because it was something he knew Dean had wanted to do since he was a little child. But Dean couldn't just take a vacation, couldn't just act on impulse and do something fun. No, everything in his life had to revolve around some kind of hunt, and so, Sam humored him. But now, well now Sam was starting to think that he may have been wrong.

And, to top it all off, his attention spannless brother was really starting to get on his nerves. Sam hadn't even been researching for ten minutes when Dean started to sing very annoying hobo songs.

"This is a story 'bout Sam and Dean, rollin' down the tracks, rollin' down the tracks."

"Dude. Knock it off."

"Little geek boy's got a stick up is ass, stick up his ass." Dean sang again, popping his head in time with some imagined beat.

"Dean, you're really making this difficult."

"Making what difficult, you've been researching the same thing over and over again. You've probably got it all memorized by now."

"Yeah well, it takes a lot of concentration to see if there's something I missed."

"Nothing has been missed, Sam, so just let it go."

"Let it go? How're we gonna figure out who we need to salt and burn if I just let it go?"

"That's why were out here, to talk to people. I mean this has only been happening for what, five years? Someone around here's gotta know something." Dean stated as though it was as simple as two plus two.

Dean's laid back, easy as pie attitude was really starting to grate on Sam, his nerves growing shorter the longer the older man sat there, humming to himself. He knew that, initially his brother had wanted to get to the hunt because of the freight-hopping, but now it seemed that Dean was over that, his most likely broken wrist having a lot to do with it. Dean had been so excited, and now, well now cold reality was setting in and it was weighing him down.

"Well, the only people I saw were those kids and they didn't really seem like the FTRA type."

"At least it's someone." Dean stated, trying to hide the a groan of pain as he stood.

Despite the ice pack Sam had managed to find, his brother was still in a great amount of pain, his arm swollen more than both men knew it should have been. And, while Dean kept insisting that it was nothing more than a bad sprain, Sam knew better. From the way his brother was holding his arm, to the small cringes he thought Sam couldn't see, it all led the younger hunter to the truth, Dean had broken his arm, and that was going to add a whole new level to the hunt.

Dean needed to have free use of both arms to make it from one boxcar to the next safely. Yes, if push came to shove he could probably still manage, but the word 'safely' kept floating through Sam's already full mind. He couldn't help but picture his brother hanging precariously from the train, one arm holding on for dear life, the other hanging useless. And every time he imagined what could happen all he heard was the stubborn man's voice, insisting that he was fine.

"Up and at um, geek-boy. We're burning daylight."

"It's ten in the morning."

"Yeah, so."

"So, we've got plenty of daylight to burn, cool your jets."

"My jets are cool. Come on."

"Come on, where?"

"To see those kids."

"I already told you, they don't know anything."

"How do you know?"

"They don't seem the type. Did you hit your head or something because we already had this conversation."

"Don't judge a book by it's cover, little brother. Did you at least talk to them?"

"I think I mumbled 'hi' in passing." Sam answered sarcastically before turning back to his computer.

"Well, then let's go get better acquainted."

"Dean, why can't you just stay in one place for a little while?"

"Because we're on a hunt, Sam."

"But your arm."

"I've hunted hurt before."

"Yeah, on solid ground. If you haven't noticed, we're on a moving train."

"Oh really, I thought it was just a really drawn out earthquake."

"Bite me."

"What's your problem, all we're gonna do is interview a bunch of kids."

"Yeah, four cars back."

"So."

"So! So? So forgive me if I don't want to see my only brother fall from a moving train."

"Aw, Sam, you do care."

"Would you be serious for five minutes."

"I'm not gonna fall."

"Oh yeah, and how do you plan on hanging on?"

"I've got my ways."

"And what ways are those?"

"Hop out on the ladder and I'll show you."

"Are you trying to use reverse psychology on me?"

"Reverse who?"

"You know, trying to trick me into letting you go by thinking that you don't really want to go."

"What?"

"Never mind."

"Man, college has filled that freaky head of yours with all sorts of wacked out ideas."

"Can we just go?"

"After you, princess." Dean said, moving aside as Sam packed up his laptop, never once seeing the knowing smirk on the older man's face.

"Just, follow my lead and don't do anything stupid."

"When have I ever done anything stupid?"

Sam just gave his brother a look, his mind going over each and every stupid thing Dean had done in his life. Hell, forget his life, he could fill up two pages just listing what he'd done in the past month.

"Now." Sam began, shouldering his bag and pulling open the door. "I'm gonna go out, then I'll reach back in for you."

"Screw that, Sam, I'm not five."

"Would you let me do this."

"I feel like a freaking first grader. But I'll hold your hand if you want me to, Mr. Sam."

"Shut up." Sam scowled, reaching out towards a ladder. He balanced himself on the metal rungs, making sure he had both feet securely planted before moving down the car. He slid his feet along a groove, one hand still gripping the ladder, the other holding a pipe. After a few calming breaths, he reaching out for his brother.

Getting Dean onto the ladder was easier said than done, and Sam's heart beat fast with the knowledge of just how difficult this would really be. Even with two fully functioning arms Sam was still having a hard time, but he never was one to underestimate his brother. And, after a very tense, and nearly disastrous start, Dean managed to slide his way down the cars, left hand holding onto Sam, right arm wrapped around the poles and ladders, his wrist tucked in close to his body.

666666666666

"I think I hear voices." Larissa Matthews whispered to her boyfriend, Robby, the two teens huddled together in the cold boxcar, their friends sleeping a few feet away.

"For the last time, Ris, this train isn't haunted."

"But I swear I heard something."

"It's just your imagination. We did get up really early this morning, maybe a nap would help."

"I am not hallucinating. I really heard something."

"Sure."

"Hey, you didn't believe I saw a six foot something guy climbing along the cars until he stopped here."

"Yeah, alright, you win, you're hearing the voices of the haunted train."

But, just as Robby tried to comfort his obviously frightened girlfriend, he too heard the voices. They were low, barely audible over the roar of the train, but they were definitely there, and getting louder. Larissa leaned into him, Robby wrapping his arms protectively around her shoulders as he kicked his friend Trevor awake.

"Dude, what's your problem?" The seventeen year old mumbled, rolling over, pressing his face into his girlfriend, Kayle's shoulder.

"Get up, something's coming."

"Like a cop?" The groggy teen asked sitting up.

"I don't know. It's just voices right now."

"You think it's the ghost?" Kayle asked, her eyes wide with barely hidden excitement. It had been her idea to go 'ghost hunting' in the first place, and, while the other three said it was for babies, they had all agreed to it rather quickly.

"Oh god, I hope not." Larissa moaned, curling into herself.

"I don't think so, Ris." Robby began, crawling towards the door and pushing it open, the voices floating through. "Unless its the ghost of the three stooges."

"…..Dude, stop holding my hand."

"Would you rather fall off?"

"Yes, at the moment I would."

"You liar."

"Hello?" Robby called, wondering what the hell was actually going on.

"Hi."

"We're back."

"Dean, you weren't here before, so you can't be back."

"It was a line from 'poltergeist'. Watch a movie." Dean chided, just as Sam wrapped his free hand around the open door.

A moment later Sam and Dean stood, safe and whole in the boxcar, four very surprised looking teenagers staring up at them.

"You're back." Larissa began, sighing in relief. The stories they had been telling the previous night were really beginning to get to her.

"Yeah, hey." Sam smiled awkwardly, Dean turning on the charm beside him.

"Back from your dreams, Sweetheart."

"Oh gosh." She laughed, grabbing Robby's hand, the boy standing a good four inches shorter than Dean. "That was kind of lame."

Sam couldn't help but snort as the little seventeen year old shot down his older brother without even batting an eyelash, Dean mumbling beside him as he searched for a place to sit.

"So." Trevor began after a few moments of strained silence. "I see you found your brother. Why'd you come back?"

"No reason really." Sam began shrugging, trying to make it sound like he hopped trains on a daily basis. "We just got a little bored over there."

"Yeah. Sam here's not much of a conversationalist." Dean began, trying to regain himself, still a bit thrown by being turned down. After all, he _was_ Dean Winchester, stuff like that just didn't happen to him. "So, you guys do this a lot?"

"No, actually, this is the first time." Kayle answered nervously. "You?"

"Once in a while.'

"What made you decided to up and hop a train?" Sam smiled at the kids, trying his best to gain their confidence.

It was obvious to him that they were all trying to be a lot tougher then they really were. But acting like you could handle yourself and actually being able to do it were two completely different things and, by the look in their young eyes, Sam could tell that all four were second guessing their idea.

"It was Kayle's idea."

"Thanks, Robby."

"I didn't mean it that way. We heard these stories, you know, about people dying of fright. So we figured hey, ya only live once, why not do a little ghost hunting."

Sam and Dean exchanged a quick glance, the moment so small that it was lost to everyone other than the two seasoned hunters. And then slowly, as though he were about to hear the most interesting story ever, Sam spoke. "So, what have you heard?"


	4. Chapter 4

_once again, thank you all so much for the great reviews, they really do mean alot to me. i am so glad you are all enjoying this story, it is a ton of fun to write. as always, let me know what you all think of the newest chapter. :)_

**IN TRANSIT**

Chapter 4

"_So, what have you heard?"_

The four teens exchanged nervous glances, none wanting to tell the brothers what it was they knew about the trains. It wasn't that they were afraid of Sam and Dean, well, they _were_ a little afraid of them, but that wasn't the reason. No, the real reason they didn't want to tell them the story was because it was childish. After all, ghosts weren't real, everyone knew that, and now two grown men were asking them to retell a story made for kids and each and every teen felt like they were under the microscope.

"It's just a story." Kayle began nervously her eyes drifting back and forth between the brothers.

"Well, Sammy, here tells me we got at least eight hours to the next stop. So, let's listen." Dean smiled.

He knew a lot of these kinds of stories were nothing more than people talking but, every once in a while, you got a group of people who actually knew what was going on. And that made the often long and, 'well people talk' stories worth listening to.

"Well, apparently there was this girl, she and her family lived out here near the tracks. Real backwoods kind of people, and when the girl could get away from the house she'd just sit and watch the trains. Her family was really weird, you know, wouldn't let her out, tried to pick her husband for her, all that kinds of stuff. But she always snuck down to the tracks and, over the years, she fell in with some of the riders.

"There was this one guy, well he said he was going to marry her, take her away from her oppressive family. She was so happy, she snuck out one night, and went back to the tracks, but he never showed up."

"What happened to the girl?" Sam asked, trying to sound as interested in the story as he could. In reality, his mind was already running a mile a minute, processing every bit of information he could.

"No one knows. She was never seen by the tracks again. Some people say she killed herself, and others say that her family killed her. But no one really knows the truth."

"Do you know her name? Or where abouts she lived?" Dean asked, leaning towards the teens, his broken arm held close to his body.

"No." Kayle began like he just asked her if the sky was purple. "What's it matter anyway, it was like, fifty years ago."

"Really. That long ago?" Dean leaned back, shooting Sam a glance before turning back towards the teens.

He was having trouble thinking over the pain in his arm, but he wasn't about to let that stop him. No, this hunt had been his idea, and there was no way in hell he would ever admit Sam was right. Nope, that was something that would just never happen, because well, he was the oldest, and he was always supposed to be right. Even when he was wrong. But, he was right about one thing, it was an angry spirit. He just couldn't figure out why it took nearly fifty years for the thing to start it's attack.

"Yeah, I guess." Kayle stated, not really all the interested in her own story anymore.

"So what, you four heard the story and decided to hope on the next train?"

"Yeah, pretty much." Trevor smiled, obviously enjoying the brothers company, and his impromptu trip.

Dean just shook his head. When had kids stopped sitting in front of the tv playing video games for fun? It was a hell of a lot safer than hoping on haunted trains, that's for sure.

"Have you seen anything yet?"

"Of course not." Larissa broke in. "Ghosts aren't real."

"Then why'd you even come on this trip, Ris?" Kayle spoke up, her voice sharp. This obviously wasn't the first time they'd had this conversation.

"I came because Robby wanted to."

"Don't drag me into this."

"What? You're not even gonna stand up for me?"

"I didn't say that, I just asked you not to drag me into it."

"Well what else would that mean?"

"Ok." Dean began, breaking into the growing fight. "I think it's time, Sammy and me made our exit."

"Huh, what?" Sam asked, nervous eyes shooting back to his brother.

"You guys are leaving?" Trevor asked, his voice and eyes both dropping.

Dean couldn't believe it, it was like the kid had found his knew best friends. But they were on a hunt, and baby-sitting a bunch of bickering kids was only going to happen if and when said bickering kids were on the wrong end of the spirit. Other than that, they were on their own. Besides, he kind of liked moving between the trains, even though Sam seemed to think it was suicidal.

"Looks that way, buddy."

"Maybe we could come with you?" Trevor asked, his eyes lighting up at the idea.

"No!" Sam broke in, a little louder than he probably intended. "Uh, no, I mean, you guys are new at this and moving through trains is pretty dangerous. In fact, I think we're just gonna stay put, too."

"Suit yourself, Sam." Dean chided, pushing himself up off the dirty floor, barely concealing a wince as he pulled at his injured arm. "But I'm gonna be moving along."

"Dean." Sam rose to his feet quickly, following Dean towards the door.

"What!"

"Why can't you just stay put?"

"Cause I'm bored."

"So you've decided to go for the stroll of death?"

"You don't have to be so dramatic about it."

"Dramatic. Dude, you almost fell off three times."

"I did not. I was just keeping you sharp."

"You know what." Sam began, sliding out onto the side of the car. "You're a freaking jerk."

"No, you're just a pansy." Dean smirked, a little amazed that he had now managed to get Sam out the car doors by simply walking towards them. Reverse psychology at its best. "And dude, if you try to hold my hand again, I'm gonna smack you." Dean added, winking at the dumbfounded teens before sliding out the door himself.

"I was saving your life." Sam shouted over the roar of the train and wind, both brothers making their way to the next car.

It was slow and dangerous going, Dean having to hold onto the metal struts and supports for all he was worth. But he wasn't about to stop, oh no, this was something he has wanted to do ever since he was a little kid and, by god, he was going to do it, broken, no, heavily sprained arm or not.

"You keep telling yourself that, Sammy."

"Fine, next time I'll just let you fall."

"You'd never."

"Oh no?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because if I'm this annoying as a brother, imagine how I'd be as a spook."

Dean watched the smile break out across his baby brother's face, the younger man shaking his head at the truly Dean answer. If Dean was being at all honest with himself, he was more than a little terrified to be on the side of a train with only one good arm. And if he was worried, then mother hen Sam had to be going out of his mind. So, the older man did what he did best, he calmed Sam down.

"So." Sam began, grabbing Dean's collar as the older man leaned back a little too far. "Tell me again why we couldn't stay in the nice safe boxcar."

"Dude, do you really want to try and discuss this case in front of a bunch of kids?"

"Point taken."

"Beside, that poor guy was about to the the girlfriend lecture. I couldn't just sit there and watch him get thrown to the wolves."

"What the hell's the girlfriend lecture?"

"Oh you know. 'You don't look at me ten times a day anymore, now it's only eight, you must not love me anymore.'" Dean began, his voice high pitched and whining.

"That's proof right there that you've never had a girlfriend."

"They're always saying stuff like that to me. 'Why are you leaving? Did I do something wrong?'"

"You need to go on Dr. Phil or something."

"That weird bald guy? Hell no, Sammy. I'd rather go toe to toe with a werewolf."

"You'd rather fight a werewolf then talk to Dr. Phil?"

"Yes."

"You're twisted."

"I'm twisted. You're suggesting I take relationship advice from a tubby little bald man."

But Sam just rolled his eyes, ducking into the next, thankfully empty car. He heaved Dean in a little harder than was necessary, depositing the fuming older man on the floor before going for his laptop.

"Dude, careful with the merchandize."

"Bite me." Sam muttered, powering up the computer. "Now, back to the reason why we're here."

"Spoil sport."

"Based on what those kids said, I think it's a spirit."

"Told you so."

"But." Sam continued, completely ignoring his brother. "Why start killing now?"

"Maybe her house was leveled? Maybe she just died and wants revenge? Who knows."

"Uh, we should, seeing as how, it's out job."

"You know you sound like a broken record."

"Well, if you would focus I wouldn't have to keep repeating myself."

"Yada, yada, yada."

"Fine. Just don't come crying to me when this ghosts beats the crap out of you."

"They never beat the crap out of me."

"They always do."

"No, they give me a nice little fight and then they burn away into dust."

"A nice little fight? Right, that's exactly how I would describe it."

"Have you found anything over there yet, geek-boy?"

"Dean, I've only been looking for like, thirty seconds."

"Nope, minute in a half."

"Are you timing me?"

"No. Not really anyway, it was just an observation."

"Dude, you need some Ridillen."

"No, I need a nerdy little brother that can type faster."

"Well maybe if you'd shut up, I could pay attention to what I'm doing."

"Fine."

"Fine."

They sat in silence for no more than fifteen minutes, Sam innocently typing away on his computer, before the humming started. It was low at first, almost inaudible above the roar of the train but, as the time wore on, the humming grew louder and louder. It wasn't like an engine humming, like something on the outside of the train in the wind, no, it was a song, something melodic that slowly made its way to the younger hunter's ears.

"Dude, would you knock it off." Sam began, rubbing his face before shooting annoyed eyes at Dean. But, for once, Dean looked back at him innocently.

"Knock what off?"

"The humming. It's annoying."

"I'm not humming."

"Yes, you are."

"Sam, I think I'd know if I was humming. It's not like, oops there I go, humming again."

"Dean, stop trying to trick me. I know it's you, there's no one else here."

"And I'm telling you, it's not me."

Sam was about to start arguing again when the humming returned, louder than before, almost as if it were coming from just beyond the half closed door. The brothers exchanged glances as Sam crawled quietly towards their weapons, pulling out two shotguns and a few extra salt rounds. They could hear the voice, echoing, its song both horrifying and mesmerizing. It was a lament, a song sung for the dead, and it was coming from right around the corner.


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello again, everyone. thank you all so, so much for the great reviews, they really do mean alot to me. i hope everyone enjoys this next chapter._

**warning: this chapter gets a little gruesome at parts. not anything you wouldnt see on the show, but there are some disturbing images. **

**IN TRANSIT**

Chapter 5

Sam and Dean sat in the boxcar, both brothers staring wide eyed at the door, their hearts racing. It had found them, and neither Winchester could help the wave of fear that ran over them, making the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end. It was there, just beyond the door and moving closer. And, worst of all, they had nowhere to go.

"What do you think the chances are it will just pass by?" Dean began, nervous eyes glancing between the door and his brother. But Sam just rolled his eyes, carefully moving towards their weapons.

"What are you doing?"

"What's it look like I'm doing, Dean? I'm getting weapons."

"Dude, don't provoke it."

"Provoke it? Did you hit your head or something?"

"No, I'm just saying that we don't know enough about it yet."

"Dean, I've been saying that for the past week. You don't get to pretend to be logical now."

"Hey!"

Sam was about to answer when the humming grew louder, a light tapping sounding from the other side of the door. They both jumped a few moments later when the gentle tapping turned into a frighteningly loud thud, the entire door shaking with the force of it. It wanted in, and, by the sound of it, it was getting in one way or another. Dean's eyes shifted between his brother and the door, his heart racing when Sam pulled just one shotgun from the bag, slowly creeping towards the door before his big brother could even stagger to his feet.

"Dean, stay down." Sam whispered, moving towards the now rattling door, the shotgun held tightly in his hands.

"Like hell." Dean bit out, pain radiating once more from his broken arm. But he didn't care, his brother was moving closer and closer to the beast on the other side of the door, and Dean knew he had to get there first. After all, Sam was his little brother, he was supposed to watch out for him, not the other way around.

"Dean, I'm just gonna take a peek."

"And die of a heart attack! No freaking way."

"Dude, that's not gonna happen."

"Yes it is."

"Would you just stay back. The last thing I need is to try and shoot the thing while keeping my idiot brother from falling off the train."

"Even better that I help. I can shoot, you can keep me on board."

"Dean, go sit down." Sam growled, just as the train lurched to the side, causing Dean to fall painfully to the floor. "You alright?"

"Oh yeah, I'm just peachy." Dean mumbled, trying again to push himself to his feet. But Sam was already at the door, his left hand wrapped tightly around the handle, right gripping the shotgun, the humming and pounding growing while he stood.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, trying once more to pull his brother back from danger, but it was no use. Sam just gave him one reassuring glance before pulling open the door. And it was then that Dean's heart stopped. Because, the instant the door open, the instant Sam looked around the corner, he pulled in a deep breath and froze.

Dean stumbled and slide across the floor, the train lurching from side to side as it wove its way through the mountains, Sam's white knuckle grip on the handle the only thing holding him inside the car. His little brother swung from the door, long legs inching closer and closer to the edge as he stared on, his eyes wide and glassy, face set in a look a sheer terror.

"Sam!" Dean yelled again, watching in horror as the color drained from Sam's face, his dark eyes sinking down as he stared slack jawed at whatever was just beyond the door. He was losing him, Dean could feel it in his bones, feel it in every beat of his heart. He was losing Sam right then and there, watching as he slipped into a state of unabashed horror, his nearly comatose body sliding slowly from the speeding boxcar.

Dean made one final, pain filled grab for his brother, catching the back of Sam's collar just as the younger man pitched forward, his left hand going slack. Dean slide across the worn wooden floor with the weight of his much bigger little brother, his right arm connecting painfully with the frame of the door. And, in an instant both brothers went from the relative safety of the boxcar to handing out the door, Sam's long legs still thankfully inside. It was then that Dean saw the entity.

It wasn't that it looked all that terrifying, no, it looked almost human and strangely surreal. But, as he stared into its blood red eyes, he felt a tension growing in his chest. And suddenly, fear washed over him, snaked its way into his soul, burned his heart. He watched as the being, poised on the side of the car like some kind of demented insect stared down at him, a large, fang-filled smile spreading across its deformed face. A long tongue slithered from it's mouth, white film dripping from it, eyes staring at the brothers with an otherworldly and unholy lust. It's long legs bent back at odd angles, almost as though Dean was staring at a human cricket, its long, bony arms sliding towards them, the skin a putrid mix of mold and decay. And then, the images flashed before Dean's eyes.

He saw his mother, struggling on the roof, flames licking at her skin, her hair melting away as he watched. Flash. Now he was at a lake, the very same lake he had been forced to pull his father from at the age of twelve, though now, instead of pulling John back to safety, instead of feeling the weight of his father in his arms, he felt the hands of the hundreds who had died there wrapping around his legs, pulling him under as he struggled for air. Flash. He was on the plane again, watching helplessly as people were pulled through breaking windows, leaving nothing but skin and blood in their wake. Flash. Sammy, in the fire, his little brother fighting his way towards the door, flames devouring him as he screamed out for his brother.

"No!" Dean screamed, forcing the images from his mind, his body shaking, sweating, a fear like none he had felt before still boring into him. Non of that had happened, he had made it through all those trials, it was just a trick. He yelled again as he forcefully pulled his mind back from the hands of the creature before him, startled to see just how far out the door they had slide.

He heaved his brother back towards him with every bit of strength he could find, pushing against the wall with his broken arm, the adrenaline drowning out any pain he should have felt. He had managed to save everyone except his mother, had managed to pull his family and others out of danger before, and he wasn't about to let either he or his brother fall off a train because there was a freaking, half-human, wanna be bug on the door.

The being screeching as Dean finally managed to pull both he and his brother into the car, the creature's call so loud and piercing that Dean was sure he was deafened by it. But he still beat it, still managed to pull Sam away from it, and he relished the triumph.

"Messed with the wrong bunch of guys didn't you, Bitch!" Dean shouted, slamming the door closed and falling, exhausted to the floor. But, instead of seeing the door shake again with the powerful pounding, instead of being met with the ear piercing screech, Dean found himself in nothing but overwhelming silence.

That was, until a man's pain-filled scream of terror echoed from somewhere down the train.

"Damn it." Dean cursed under his breath, knowing there was nothing he could have done, but still feeling a overwhelming guilt at the stranger's death. He was there to save people, and now he had just let the thing get away, and it killed.

But that thought was immediately pushed from his mind when he rolled over, his eyes finally landing on Sam. "Oh god, Sammy." Dean breathed, his heart beating with renewed fear.

Sam's eyes were open and hollow, his skin paler than Dean had ever seen in before. His breathing was so shallow and slow that Dean had to lean in to hear it, waiting for several tense seconds before he could register that his little brother was in fact breathing. It all reality, it looked like Sam was dead, and that scared Dean more than the thing perched on the side of the train.

"Hey, Sammy. Come on, dude, look alive." Dean commanded, his own voice shaking as he felt Sam's slow, but thankfully steady pulse. He tapped the side of his brother's face lightly, needing a response from him, anything, just some proof he was still alive, still fighting. "Open your eyes, damn it."

"Jess." Sam breathed, his body beginning to shake. He was going into shock.

"Hey, hey, calm down little brother, it's not real. Listen to me, Sammy. Follow my voice."

"Jess, oh god."

"Sam!" Dean stated with more force, grabbing his brother's shoulders and shaking him. He had to get Sam to listen, had to get him out of whatever nightmare that thing had thrown him into.

Dean slid to their duffles, pulling out a jacket and some water before returning to his brother's side. Sam's tremors had grown in intensity in the few short minutes since the attack and Dean knew he had to keep the younger man from going into full blown shock. He wrapped the jacket around Sam's shoulders, speaking to him in a calm, yet still forceful voice the entire time, trying to coax him back to the present, pull him from the torrents of his racing mind.

And then, after he made sure Sam was alright, he was going to find that damn thing, and he was going to shoot, salt, burn, exorcise, resurrect, shoot, salt, burn, and exorcise it again, all for good measure. Because nothing, alive of dead, messed with his little brother.

"Dean?" Sam mumbled, pulling Dean back to the moment. He was at his brother's side in an instant, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, buddy, I'm here."

"Oh god, Dean, stop."

Dean was instantly and painfully aware that Sam was not calling to him from semi consciousness. No, whatever that thing had done to him was still happening, and now, instead of seeing Jessica, he was seeing him.

"No no no no." Dean began, rubbing Sam's shoulders, he had to bring him back. "Nothing's wrong, Sammy, we're on the train, remember?"

And, unfortunately, Sam did seem to remember. He remembered because he was now having visions of it going terribly wrong. "Oh no. Dean leg go. Oh god."

"Damn it. Sam, I'm fine, I didn't fall off, I didn't get hurt. Well, not really. Come on, Sammy, just listen to me. I'm here, we're here, we're fine."

"Oh god, please." Sam mumbled, tears now rolling unchecked from his closed eyes. "Oh please."

"Sam, listen to me! Don't look at me. Just listen to my voice but don't look around you."

"No."

"Close your eyes, Sammy." Dean yelled, hoping against hope that his brother could hear him. "Close your eyes and listen."

And slowly, thankfully, Sam began to still. "Good, buddy, now just listen to me, follow my voice."

"Dean? No, Dean."

"Hey, hey, keep those eyes closed. Just listen. My hand's on your shoulder, can you feel it."

'No, you died."

"No, I didn't. Can you feel me?"

"It's a trick. You killed him, you bastard."

"Hey, neither one of us is dead. Now come on, Sammy, listen to me."

"You're lying." Sam fought back, punching Dean's injured arm.

"Damn it. What's with the freaky aim?"

"Dean?" Sam instantly stilled, his eyes fluttering as he fought off the nightmares.

Dean smirked. Who would have though snide remarks would do the trick.

"Yeah, princess, it's me, I swear. Open your eyes, dude."

And finally, thankfully, Sam's brown eyes slide open, his searching gaze landing on his brother. "You're alive."

"Told you."

"Oh god, I think I'm gonna be sick." Sam managed to bite out before the nausea claimed him, Dean rubbing his back slowly as whatever Sam had eaten made a reappearance.

"Yeah, nice to see you to." Dean quipped, though his own heart was still racing. That was close, way, way too close.


	6. Chapter 6

_thank you all once again for the great reviews. sorry this chapter took so long, my life's been a little crazy this past week. there isnt too much action in this chapter, just laying the ground work. enjoy. :)_

**IN TRANSIT**

Chapter 6

Sam laid on his side in the boxcar, his head pounding, stomach still churning as the images rushed through his mind again. He didn't remember much before the nightmares took over his mind. All he saw of the creature was its eyes, sick and wide, blood red and yearning. It was like they were calling to him, piercing his soul, and burning deep into his mind and heart. And then, he saw it. Jess. But she wasn't burning on the ceiling, wasn't already beyond his reach like she had been. No, now she was there, barely a foot away, the demon's arms wrapped around her.

She was crying out to him, begging him to help her, to save her, but he was powerless to stop it. Every time he tried to move towards her the thing pounced, digging into her skin, blood flowing from her freely. And, as her tears mixed with her blood she called out for Sam. Then, just as he was sure his heart would stop, his very soul breaking as he watched the love of his life die, he heard his brother's voice. But he hadn't seen Dean anywhere in the room, hadn't heard him at all before the demon attacked. No, all he could remember before that moment was red eyes.

And then, just as soon as reality started to seep back into his mind, he blinked, and was thrown into another nightmare. But this time, instead of being at Stanford, instead of reliving a months old, he was hanging on the side of the train, just as he had been mere hours before. Now however, instead of turning to see his brother stumble, banging his arm before attempting another jump, he saw something far worse.

Dean stumbled again, hitting his arm on the ladder as it past, but now, instead of bailing on the attempt and trying again, Dean held on, sliding beneath the train as it charged down the tracks. Sam was forced to watch as his brother kicked at the ground, trying desperately to pull himself up onto the ladder as gravity continued to pull him down. He kept screaming at him to just let go, pleading with him as he watched the sickening scene play out before his eyes.

But just as he watched Dean's legs slip below the train, just as he saw the hem of his jeans being sucked up into the heavy metal wheels, Sam heard his brother's voice far louder and closer than it should have been. No, Dean had just been pulled beneath the train, crushed by the locomotive's strong wheels, he couldn't be talking to him.

And then he remembered the red eyes. That thing had killed his brother, ripped him from the train, and now it was playing games, lying to him, driving a knife of guilt and loss further into Sam's already racing heart. And worst of all, was that thing was speaking to him with his dead brother's voice. Mocking him, with the voice that had lulled him to sleep as a child, the voice he had so desperately wished to hear every time the phone had rung at school. But now, it just sounded so wrong. It was Dean, everything in his heart and soul was telling him that, but it wasn't possible. He had just watched him die.

"Sam!" Sam's eyes flew open when he heard the voice, blinking back tears as he scanned the room, Dean kneeling beside him, his eyes wide and full of worry.

"Dean?"

"What the hell, dude, that thing attacked you like an hour ago."

"Huh?"

"You looked like you were being attacked again." Dean's voice and hands both shaking slightly as he spoke.

"I'm sorry, I just started thinking about what I saw and, I don't know."

"Wait, just thinking about it did that to you?"

"Did what to me?"

"You were going into shock again, Sammy. I've been calling your name for the past ten minutes!"

"What?" Sam began, sitting up slowly, the world still spinning. He felt like he'd gone ten rounds with a professional fighter. Every muscle in his body ached, each heart beat sending a wave of pain careening through his body, his head spinning as he tried to pull in much needed air.

"Dean, what was that thing?"

"I have no idea, but I'm pretty sure it isn't a spirit."

"Where'd it go?"

"Down the train, got someone."

"Damn it. It wasn't one of those kids, was it?"

"I don't know, it was a guy, that's about all I could tell."

"We need to get down there to check on them."

"Whoa, slow down, tiger. You're not going anywhere."

"Dean. I'm fine."

"Hey, that's my line. Besides, you're far from fine. You look like death warmed over."

"Thanks for that lovely image." Sam mumbled, leaning back against the wall of the boxcar, his senses thankfully returning to normal. "So, what's the plan?"

"First thing's first, we get off this train."

"What? Dean, that thing's still out there."

"Yeah, I've noticed, but you're in no condition to hunt anything right now."

"And you are?"

"Yes."

"Dude, your arm is broken."

"But my mind is still wonderfully intact."

"Says you."

"Look, I can get away from that thing, you can't."

"What? What do you mean?"

"Nothing."

"Oh no, you're the one that opened your big mouth, spill."

"The creepy human fly thing did the same mind meld on me that it did on you. Nightmares and all."

"Then, how are you standing there like nothing's wrong?"

"I don't know, I just kind of pulled away."

"That's it."

"No, I did a dance and sang, did I forget to mention that part."

"Dude, be serious."

"I am. Sam we don't know enough about this yet. I mean, that thing almost fried your brain."

"Actually, I think it was trying to give me a heart attack."

"Listen, smart ass, as soon as this train stops, we're getting off."

And, as though fate itself was listening, the train chose that moment to grind to a bone rattling halt. Sam reached out with both arms, catching Dean inches before he hit the floor, his older brother shielding his injured arm as he fell. The train shook as it came to a halt, unsecured boxes sliding around the car, banging into the brothers as the sat against the wall.

"What the hell was that?" Dean asked, pushing away from Sam as the train finally stopped.

"The train stopped."

"Thank you, captain obvious. Any idea why?"

"Because it was supposed to." Sam mumbled, searching through some of their paperwork.

"Dude, did you hit your head, because right now you're making one crappy ass side-kick."

"No, Dean. It's stopping because it's supposed to."

"But you said the first stop was hours away."

"Yeah, Fargo."

"So why the hell are we stopping now?"

"I remember reading something about a pass around here. The trains sometimes have to stop if there's a rock slide."

"Oh, that's just great." Dean mumbled, pushing open the door and scanning both sides of the train.

"See anything?" Sam asked, pushing himself to his feet, leaning against the wall as the train car began to spin once more.

"Nothing other than a bunch of people getting off."

"What?" Sam asked, leaning out the door. It was true, many of the train's passengers seemed to be more than content with their current surroundings, some even setting small fires to cook their dinners.

"Looks like we're gonna be here a while."

Just then there was a scream from somewhere down the train, many of the passengers running over to the sound, elbowing each other to get a good look at the insides of the boxcar. Sam made his way easily to the front, his large body barreling through the bystanders, Dean following close behind. Both brothers knew what they would find, though neither was really prepared for the sight that greeted them. There, laying on the floor, hair as white as snow, was a man that couldn't have been older than thirty, a woman equally as young kneeling beside him, shaking his shoulders in an attempt to wake him.

"Molly." An older man broke through, surprisingly strong for his age and meager stature. "Molly, come here, child." He began softly but sternly, pulling the mousy haired woman away.

Though she was probably no older than Dean, Sam could tell that she had faced a lot of hardship in her life. Her eyes were vacant and hollow, face taunt, her pale skin sallow with sickness. Her clothes were clean, but in tatters, her long hair braided and covered with an equally warn scarf. It was obvious that she wasn't just someone riding the cars for fun or freedom, this was her home.

"No!" She wailed, still holding onto the corpse, tears streaming down her face. "No, Martin, please." She cried again, shaking him.

"He's gone, child. Missy." The old man signaled to the crowd, a woman in her fifties coming forward, tears streaming silently down her face. "Take Molly here and get her a drink."

"Yes, Sir. Come here, baby." She began softly, pulling Molly by the shoulders, the young girl still calling out for the man she was leaving behind.

"You all run along now." The elderly man shouted, his voice switching from kind and caring to shards of glass almost instantly. "You all've done your ogling. Let us bury our kind in peace. Shoo."

And, slowly but surely, the crowd dispersed. All except for Sam and Dean that is.

"Excuse me, Sir." Sam began, doing his best, I'm-a-good-guy-gotta-love-me impression.

"I said, git." The man turned quickly, staring at Sam with such sharp eyes that the younger Winchester immediately recoiled, even though he was well over a foot taller than the man. "They were just kids, those two. Hard times, neither deserves this. And I'll tell you both right now, we look after our own here, so you better just up and keep your noses out of our business."

"My brother didn't mean any harm." Dean began, pushing past Sam.

The old man looked Dean up and down for several long minutes, taking added interest in the way Dean was sheltering his arm, his sharp grey eyes drifting back and forth between the brothers before settling once more on Dean. "Arm needs tending, boy." He blurted out, eyes never leaving Dean.

"It's fine."

"Bull. You want that to heal all wrong, run the risk of losing it?"

"Uh, no."

"Then get it tended to. Head over to car four eighty three, back end of the train, past the log wagons. Look for Raven, tell her Pete sent ya." And with that he turned, all his attention focused on the dead young man before him.

"Well." Dean began, turning towards the end of the car, still nursing his now throbbing wrist. "I guess we're in."

"What's the supposed to mean?"

"Dude, we just got ordered around by their leader."

"They aren't aliens, Dean."

"All I'm saying is that now's the time to get some answers." Dean whispered as they approached the back cars, a man, larger than Sam, standing like a stone sentinel in front of the log wagon, greeting them with a grunt.

"Yeah." Sam mumbled as Dean walked up to the man, relaying the message 'Pete' had sent them with. "I we don't get ourselves murdered first."


	7. Chapter 7

_hello everyone. thank you all so much for the great reviews. sorry this took a little longer than i expected, i had alot of trouble with this chapter. hope you all enjoy, and a big thanks to kwater for helping me out. _

**IN TRANSIT**

Chapter 7

Dean walked up to the man standing guard at the end of the log wagon. The guy towered a good three inches above Sam and was nearly twice as wide, but that hadn't stopped Dean in the past and the older Winchester wasn't about to let it stop him now. After all, 'Pete' had sent them; that had to count for something. Dean shuttered a bit at the memory, almost as though he could still feel the old man's fierce gaze burning through him. Dean didn't know what it was the man had seen in him, didn't know what had changed, but he and Sam had been invited into the inner circle mere moments after they were shooed away. And that was enough to stop him from asking questions.

"You boys lost?" The goliath asked, clearly trying to intimidate them, his overly large muscles flexing as both Dean and Sam approached.

"We're looking for car four eighty three." Dean stated his teeth clenched. The pain in his arm had been growing steadily ever since they left the train, the throbbing, pulsing, discomfort dulling his mind, making it harder and harder for him to think.

"There's no car by that number."

"I'm pretty sure you're lying since Pete sent us there to see Raven." Dean smirked, pushing through the pain; the brute before him shifting at the sound of the names.

"Junior." The man called over his shoulder, a boy Dean guessed to be no more than twelve appearing a few minutes later. The kid's eyes drifted over the brothers for a few seconds, taking them in, his face a mask of stone, stoic enough to rival even Dean. "Run and tell Raven to be expecting, and tell her one looks to be injured." And with a nod the little boy ran towards the back of the train.

"Straight back. Third car, no getting sidetracked." The man spoke firmly, his slow and stern voice conveying to the Winchesters just what would happen if they strayed.

Dean and Sam both nodded as they tried to move past him, the brute knocking into Dean's injured arm, hard, causing the older Winchester to grunt in pain. A sound that was, unfortunately, not lost on his brother. But thankfully, Sam didn't say one word to the man, choosing to rest his hand on Dean's left shoulder, steering his brother away from a fight he couldn't currently win.

"Do you have to antagonize everyone you meet?" Sam began in a whisper, glancing back at the sentinel.

"Not everyone." Dean smiled through the pain. His arm had been fine when he first hurt it, nothing more than a heavy sprain, at least in Dean's opinion. But after their encounter with the human fly of doom, after using it to hold both he and his brother inside a train, well now his arm was little more than a mangled mess.

"Dean, that guy could have broken you in half."

"But he didn't."

Sam just raised his eyebrows, staring incredulously at his brother. "Yeah, because you're holding your arm like it's about to fall off."

"Don't be dramatic."

"Oh, I'm being dramatic. I'm not the one that said my arm was fine."

"Yeah, was." Dean mumbled, instantly regretting it when his little brother turned on the spot, piercing brown eyes boring into him.

"Was?"

"Huh?" Dean began trying to act innocent, but his little brother wasn't buying it.

"Don't 'huh' me. What do you mean, was?"

"It was fine in the past, but now in the future it no longer is."

"Stop being an ass,"

"You're the one that asked the stupid question."

"Alright, Yoda, why then is it no longer fine?"

Dean mumbled beneath his breath, the words so low that he himself could barely hear them.

"Louder."

"I hurt it worse when I was hanging onto the door."

"If it was already broken then why didn't you use your other arm?"

"Because that one was busy keeping you on the train."

"What? When?"

"When bug man was melting your brain."

Dean wished he hadn't said anything, wished he had just kept the truth to himself. But the pain radiating through his body was making it hard for him to think, and all he wanted to do was lay down. Dean looked up into his brother's eyes as the silence stretched on, all his resolve crumbling when he saw the younger man's face. Sam looked like he had been physically slapped, his tattered emotions on overdrive, and Dean knew he was responsible.

"It wasn't your fault, Sam."

"Dean--."

"You shouldn't keep her waiting."

Sam and Dean both turned towards the voice. The little boy they had seen mere moments before was standing behind them, his eyes traveling over them as though they had arrived from another planet.

"Raven?" Dean asked, but the little boy just turned and ran. "That kids seem weird to you?"

"Everything seems weird to me right now." Sam mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked towards Raven's car.

Dean just watched his brother sulk ahead of him, wishing there was something he could do, something he could say to make it all right. He knew his little brother was still suffering from the creature's attack, that the younger man's twisted memories were still eating away at him, punishing him with each trip through his tortured mind. And Dean just wanted to fix it, just wanted to be a big brother, to protect Sam.

They approached car four eighty three a minute or two later. The boxcar being much smaller than the brothers had expected, the thing looking like it had been apart of the train for well over a hundred years. There wasn't much it could hold, of that the brothers were certain, and Dean found himself wondering how both people and cargo could fit inside it.

Sam walked gingerly to the door, knocking lightly on the worn wooden surface. He shrugged a few moments later, turning away when he was met by nothing but silence, his soft eyes taking in his older brother's ragged appearance. Dean knew he looked like shit, hell, he could feel the overwhelming crappiness running through him. But, if anything, Dean knew that Sam looked worse.

"Maybe she's not there?" Sam began, his voice low.

"Nah, the kid said she was in there."

"Do you think, maybe, they tricked us? You know, like set a trap?"

Dean knew what his brother was getting at, and he knew that it was a very logical assumption. They were stuck on a train with who knew what attacking people, a group of sadly misguided teens, and now an entire community of people that could have been the ringleaders of the FTRA for all they knew. But there was something else, something Dean couldn't explain, but something he also couldn't ignore, and it was pushing him on. He almost felt as though he needed to meet these people, and not just for his arm.

"I hear one of you is hurt." A sharp and steady voice cut through his mind, pulling Dean back into the gloom of the wilderness around him.

The train had stopped in a steep, heavily wooded area, the kind of place people could go missing in without anyone batting an eye.

"My brother." Sam spoke before Dean could stop him.

Both brothers stared as the woman known as Raven came into view. She was older, probably in her sixties, and tall, her jet black hair falling to her waist. Her skin was dark, face set with features so sharp that Dean was sure they had been chiseled by an artist. But the most mesmerizing thing of all was her eyes. She seemed to stare through Sam, her gaze piercing, knowing, dark as a storm yet still somehow soft.

"Why are you here?" She asked, her voice sharp as glass, eyes never leaving Sam.

"I, uh, my brother." Sam stumbled, shrinking back a bit under the gaze.

"I know why you are standing before, boy. Why are you here on this train?"

"My brother and I." Sam began, his eyes soft and imploring, a lie building as he spoke. "We don't have much money, or any other way to travel."

She slide a few feet back into the car, her eyes on fire, sharp features shining in the weak sunlight. "I do not tolerate those who lie."

"But, please." Sam jumped forward as the woman began to slide the door closed. "Please, my brother's hurt."

Dean knew what Sam was doing, knew he was feeling guilty for the injury, but he also knew that begging and lying wasn't the way to get the woman's help. But, much to the elder Winchester's surprise, the woman stopped at Sam's words, her eyes drifting over the twenty two year old's head and landing on Dean. The older man didn't know what it was, but he just couldn't take his eyes off her, her dark orbs burning through him much like Pete's had done. She surveyed him, taking extra care as she searched his face, before her eyes finally settled on the arm he was guarding.

"Come here, child." She said, beckoning to Dean.

He moved forward a little reluctantly; if anything, he'd much rather be called 'boy' than 'child'. "My name's Dean."

"That makes no difference to me."

Dean looked at the woman like she had two heads, Raven paying no mind to his glare or his comment as he made his way slowly towards her. She was a strong and powerful woman, of that he had no doubt, but there was something else about her, something darker, deeper, and Dean just couldn't figure it out. All he knew was that there was more to the story hidden behind her obsidian eyes.

"Come in." She stated smoothly as soon as she saw his arm. "Just him." She snapped when Sam stepped forward, the younger man freezing in his tracks at the words.

"If you don't mind.--" He began, but she cut across him.

"I do."

Raven moved back into the shadows of her boxcar without another word, leaving the brothers alone once again. Dean stood by the door for a few minutes, part of his mind telling him to stay out of the creepy car while the other part was telling him to hop in.

"What do you think you're doing?" Sam asked in a hushed voice, grabbing Dean's uninjured arm when the older hunter stepped forward.

"What's it look like I'm doing?"

"I don't want you in there alone."

"Sam, you're the one that was just begging her for help."

"Look, Dean, let's just get back to our own car. I'll patch you up there."

"Why? Come on, man, this is our one chance to get answers."

"How do you figure that?"

"These people have been around for years, who knows what they've seen."

"Dean, please, I have a bad feeling about this."

"You have a bad feeling about everything."

"Well, this time it's serious. You can't tell me you haven't noticed the interest they've all taken in you."

"What interest?" Dean lied, but Sam just rolled his eyes. "Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Maybe they all just feel sorry for me?"

"One of their friends just died, I don't think they're feeling sorry for you."

"Well then maybe they just don't like you?"

Dean's smiled widened a bit when Sam immediately looked to the ground, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, almost like a scolded child.

"Aw, come on, Sammy, you can't be everybody's favorite."

"I still have a real bad feeling about this, Dean."

"So what? You think we should just wander around till bug man shows up again?"

"That's not what I meant."

"I'll be fine, Sam. Don't worry so much." And with one last glance at his brother, Dean disappeared into the dark train car.


	8. Chapter 8

_hello everyone. sorry about the long delay, work is starting to get a little crazy. hopefully then next chapter wont take so long. :) thank you all so much for the great reviews, they make my day. enjoy the next installment :)_

**IN TRANSIT**

Chapter 8

Sam leaned against the closed door of boxcar number four hundred and eighty three; his sharp brown eyes scanning everything around him, studying each person that passed. He knew his brother was only feet away, but to the younger hunter, it felt more like miles. Sam didn't like being separated from his brother, especially when Dean was hurt, but he didn't have any other options at the moment. His brother's arm needed to be set, and he couldn't calm himself enough to do it.

Ever since his encounter with whatever the hell it was they were hunting, Sam had been on edge and shaky. It was almost like he could still feel the overwhelming fear eating away at him; the nightmares hovering at the back on his mind, waiting to pounce. He knew they weren't real memories, knew that it was all something the creature had put in his head, but that didn't make them any less real in his tortured mind. He could feel the heat of the fire as it consumed his perfect life; hear his brother's body as it was crushed beneath the train. It was like a weight bearing down on him, crushing him, suffocating him.

"You all right there, kid?"

Sam opened his eyes at the sound of the voice, surprised to find himself shaking violently, his face covered in sweat. It had happened again. He had been leaning against a door and his mind had slipped right back into the terror once more. His tormented body going into shock as he waited for word on his brother.

"Uh yeah." Sam began, rubbing his now aching forehead. "Yeah, I'm ok."

"You don't look it." Pete answered, eyeing Sam like he was some kind of alien hybrid.

"Well, I am. Thanks for your concern."

"Not concerned, just saying you don't look right." Pete stated, as though he were talking about the weather, his dark eyes still taking in every inch of Sam.

"Oh um, ok." Sam stuttered, shifting a bit under the intensity of the old man's gaze.

"The boy with Raven, what happened to him?" Pete asked after a few moments of awkward silence, his head tilting towards the boxcar as he spoke.

"He fell trying to get onto the train."

"Lucky he wasn't sucked under it." Pete mumbled, his eyes scanning the forest around them as a light breeze blew through the pass.

Sam felt as though his heart had frozen in his chest, the old hobo's words stabbing him, sinking into the twisted memories, giving them strength. And, once again, Sam could feel the terror growing in his chest, the force of the fear tightening around his heart. It had been so close, and he knew that it could have been so much worse. He could have lost his brother, watched as Dean disappeared from his side forever.

"Hey!" Pete growled, shaking Sam's shoulders hard, forcing the young hunter to look at him.

"Sorry." Sam mumbled, rubbing his pounding forehead.

"We don't appreciate you coming 'round here and causin' trouble." Pete barked, his inky eyes narrowing as he stared Sam down.

"We're not."

"You on drugs?"

"What!" Sam's eyes flew open, studying the man before him. "No, of course not." The younger Winchester defended, understanding why Pete had jumped to the conclusion.

He was sweating, his body pale and shaking, breathing shallow and even. Hell, had it not been for the fact that he actually saw the thing that did it, Sam would have thought he was coming down off of something, too.

"I'm just a little sick, is all."

Pete just huffed, obviously not believing Sam for a moment. But instead of walking away, instead of ignoring the hunter like Sam would have expected; Pete continued to stand beside him, his gaze drifting between the twenty two year old and the closed door behind him.

"What are you two really doing here?"

"Just traveling."

"Bull."

"Look." Sam began, closing his eyes as a prayed for patients. He was really getting tired of the older man's constant accusations. "You're not gonna believe what I say one way or another. So could you just buy the explanation and leave?"

Something shifted in the man's eyes at Sam's curt words; the hard orbs growing a bit lighter. It was almost like a memory washed over him, pulling him away from their dank surroundings, sending his mind back to a brighter time, a better time. After several long moments, he spoke again, his voice a bit lighter, the hard edge gone.

"That one in there your brother?"

"Yeah."

"He a troublemaker?"

Sam couldn't help but laugh at the statement. "That's putting it lightly. But, he never means any harm." Sam added hastily, not wanting to lose the man's new found confidence.

"I've been on these rails long enough to know they're not a place you want to be, kid."

"Sam."

"Sam. You and your brother should get on home." Pete spoke somberly, his voice shifting back to the tone he used with Molly.

"That's not really an option."

"Better option than this place."

"We're not looking to stay."

"Then why're you here? And don't give me any bull this time."

"Well, my brother and I, we're kind of looking into the deaths."

"You're cops?" Pete growled, his eyes going dark, voice growing hard and sharp once more.

"No, no." Sam began, putting his hands up, forming his next words carefully. "We're not cops, far from it actually."

"Reporters?"

"Just, trust me when I say we're here to help."

"I don't trust anyone, Sam. Specially not some lying kid I just met."

"Then why'd you send us down here?" Sam asked, he too growing irritated with the conversation. If Pete didn't give a rat's ass about them, then why the hell had he sent them for help in the first place?

"The boy needed his arm fixed."

"The boy's name is Dean."

"Makes no difference." Pete answered absently, his eyes drifting once more to the boxcar.

"Whatever, I've got too much of a headache to argue."

"So, you're not a cop or reporter? Who are you then?"

"Just brothers."

"How'd you expect to help us then?"

"Lets just say we look into things that can't really be explained."

Understanding seemed to fall over Pete like a tidal wave. His face fell slightly, almost as though a distant fear was forcing its way back into his mind, shaking him down to the soul. He knew something, of that Sam was sure, and the younger Winchester switched into hunting mode instantly.

"You know what I'm talking about, don't you."

"The trains are a place for stories, kid."

"Stories or not, you know what's going on."

"If I did, you think I wouldn't stop it? You think I'd let kids like Martin die? Those kids were just coming around, just starting to get themselves together again. You think that if I knew something, I wouldn't have stopped it!"

"I didn't say that."

"Sure as hell sounded like you did. I'm gonna tell you this once, Sam. Keep your nose out of our business. We didn't ask for help, and this is no place for you. Take your brother and go." And with that, Pete stormed away, leaving Sam reeling.

The man knew something, Sam was certain, but what he just didn't know. Pete was at the center of it, that much was obvious, but there was still so much more Sam didn't understand. If Pete knew what it was then why wasn't he trying to stop it, or at least searching for help? And why the hell was he so damn interested in Dean?

The second question weighted heavier of Sam's already tormented soul. He needed to learn more about the mysterious man that ran the train, and he knew that he wouldn't get another word out of Pete no matter how hard he tried. No, he needed to talk to the others, get some more information on the man known as Pete.

Making his decision Sam pushed away from the car, his mind torn between his brother, and the information they needed to end this hunt. Dean would be safer away from the train, and if that meant separating from him to get answers, then that's what Sam would do. Beside, he was just going to ask a few questions, how much trouble could they get into?

Sam scanned the area as he walked, searching for any signs of Pete or the sentinel from the log wagon. He needed to get this hunt over with, as much for himself as for Dean. Even though he was focused on the forest, his mind set firmly in the present, there was still a voice at the back of his head, calling to him, telling him everyone he loved was dying and dead. The memories flashed before his eyes, making the young hunter's heart race, his breath quickening with each memory. The creature was still killing him, still trying to pull him down, and Sam didn't know how much longer he could fight it.

They were racing against a being they knew nothing about, and Sam knew that they were running out of time.

Soft sobbing drifted to the young man's ears, Sam stopping in his tracks when he heard it, his brown eyes searching the scattered tents and blankets for the sound. A few moments later he found the source. Molly was laying alone near the edge of the forest, far away from the crowd and the train, her back to the world.

She was on her side, arms covering her face, her small body shaking with each chocking breath. Sam's heart broke for the girl before him, his own mind drifting back to Jessica, back to the perfection he had lost, the dreams that had been stolen from him by the darkness he could never seem to outrun. Everyone always said it was better to have loved and lost, then never to have loved at all, but Sam didn't believe that statement for a second. Nothing in all his life ever matched the pain of losing the beautiful blonde he had loved so much. Had he never met her then she still would have been alive and safe, and he wouldn't be carrying around a crushing pain in his heart.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked, his voice soft.

"Go away." Molly chocked back, her face still buried.

"I heard what happened, I'm so sorry."

"I don't care. Just go away."

"Alright. But if you want to talk, my name's Sam."

"What could I possibly have to talk to you about? You don't know what this is like."

"I do. My girlfriend." Sam stopped, his voice freezing in his throat. "My girlfriend died a few months ago."

"It's not fair." Molly sobbed, not turning towards Sam, but not shooing him away either.

"I know."

"How come everybody else gets to be happy?"

"I don't know."

"I wasn't even around then. That stupid boy, why do I have to suffer for him." The young girl spit out, her voice growing harsher and angrier as she spoke.

"What are you talking about?"

"The older ones always told us the train was cursed. I thought it was one of their stupid stories. How come we have to suffer because of them?"

Just as Sam opened his mouth to speak the horn on the train bellowed, the monster behind them coming to life. Molly sprang to her feet, gathering up her meager belongings faster than what Sam would have thought possible. It was only when he turned that he realized how far from the train he had actually walked.

"What's going on?"

"The train's leaving." She called, already rushing past him towards the nearest boxcar.

"I have to get back to my brother."

"You have to get on the train, you'll find him later." She ordered, grabbing his arm, her face still streaked with tears. "We're thirty miles from the nearest town, no one will know if you're gone."

Sam conceded, his heart racing as the train began to charge forward, people rushing to it on all sides of him. He caught the ladder, helping Molly climb into the empty car as the locomotive began to pick up speed. He peered up and down the train, watching the last few stragglers hop on. He had no idea which car his brother was in, the compartments all blending together in his mind. With a final sigh, Sam pulled the heavy door closed. Maybe splitting up wasn't the smartest thing to do.


	9. Chapter 9

_hey all. sorry about the long wait, work has been crazy and then i was away. this chappy has lots of info in it, so i hope you all enjoy it. once again, thank you so much for all the great reviews, they really make my day. _

**IN TRANSIT**

Chapter 9

Dean was ushered to the opposite side of the small train car, his injured arm still held close to his chest. He didn't like being in there alone, and he didn't like the idea of Sam being alone either. It wasn't that he didn't think they could handle themselves, he knew they could take on anyone there; it was just that bad things always seemed to happen when they were separated. It was like Murphy's law; if Sam and Dean were apart, then all hell would break loose. The elder Winchester didn't know why fate seemed to hate them, all he knew was that trouble never seemed to be too far away.

"Pete sent you?" Raven's voice broke through the heavy silence, the older woman pushing Dean down onto a box. Dean was amazed at the strength the slender woman possessed, her soft hand pushing him down to sit with more force than he would have thought.

"Yeah." Dean answered, wincing when a sharp pain shot through his arm. In all honesty his arm was getting worse by the minute, the pain growing to an almost unbearable level. He knew that he had done a lot of damaged when he slid into the wall, but it was his arm or Sammy, and no matter what, his brother would always come first.

The woman before him just nodded, her dark eyes boring into him, almost as though she was trying to stare through him, into him. It was uncomfortable to say the least, Dean squirming a bit beneath the gaze, his heart beating faster as he sat. He tried to match her glare, tried to stare her down, but something wouldn't allow him. Her eyes were as sharp as glass, but still somewhat sad; almost as though she was looking through him, staring off at a distant horizon only she could see.

"Why are you here?"

"My arm--." But Raven just held up a hand, silencing Dean with her stare.

"That's not what I mean. Why have you come to us? And before you begin, I expect nothing but the truth."

"I don't think you would believe the truth." Dean answered, his body tensing when the woman reached for his arm.

"You'd be surprised what I believe." She answered vaguely, examining his wrist as she spoke.

"My brother and I are looking into the deaths." Dean answered, surprised when he got no reaction from the woman sitting before him.

Raven remained quiet for several long minutes, working on Dean's wrist, the hunter's grunts of pain the only sounds in the heavy silence. She seemed deep in thought, almost as though she was lost in a distant memory. Her dark eyes remained set on Dean's wrist, her ministrations as soft and soothing as they could be under the circumstances. It wasn't until she began to wrap his wrist in a long cloth that she spoke.

"You should stay away from things you don't understand."

"I think I do understand it."

"You can't."

"You'd be surprised."

"I doubt that."

"Let's just say that I'm used to looking into things no one else really believes in."

"That doesn't mean you understand. Just because something seems on the borders of the natural world, doesn't mean it can be explained away."

Dean just stared at the cryptic woman before him, Raven's black eyes still staring through him, almost as though she was studying his soul. She knew something, of that Dean was certain, he just needed to get the information out of the woman before him.

"Why does everyone around here keep staring at me?" Dean asked after a few moments, his injured arm cradled against his chest once more.

His wrist still hurt like hell, but the shooting pains that had been plaguing him since the accident were thankfully lessening. It wasn't much, but at that moment, he would take what he could get.

"Why would you think that?"

"Because I'm not blind."

"Like I said, there are things in this world that defy explanation."

"Alright, I can do the Yoda thing, too."

To say that Dean was surprised by Raven's reaction would be an understatement. The moment he spoke the once stoic woman's face broke into a wide, sad smile, a soft laugh passing her lips. He had expected her to be sharp with him, had expected her to shoot him down with another cryptic statement. But instead, she laughed.

"Child, this is no place for you."

"Again, my name is Dean."

"It makes no difference."

"Yeah, says you."

"I know you are trying to help, but listen to me. Take your brother and leave, this is no place for you."

"Look, Lady, I'm not going anywhere. So, you can help me, or you can send me on my way."

"Please." Raven began, turning imploring eyes towards the hunter.

Dean was taken aback by the sheer desperation in her eyes. He didn't know what was going on, but it was something that terrified the woman before him, and he could tell that it was fear of more than just the creature. She knew something about what was going on, and it unnerved the hunter. Because, he was now certain that it had something to do with him.

"Please, just take your brother and go."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"I can't leave while people are dying."

"So are so different from him."

"From who?"

"Benjamin."

"Who's Benjamin?"

"Pete's brother."

"Pete has a brother?"

"Until five years ago he did. We've all been here for a long time, seen a lot. You understand."

"When did you first start riding the rails?" Dean asked, phrasing his questions carefully. He didn't know why or how, but he had somehow gained the guarded woman's trust, and he didn't want to lose it.

"Oh my, a lifetime ago." She answered, a sad smile on her face, eyes distant once more. "I was young, younger than you, and I didn't know what I was getting myself into. And now I've been here since 1962.

"I was sixteen when I left home. I had nowhere to go, so I caught the first train I saw. I didn't care where it was going, as long as it was somewhere far, far away. I met Pete a few months later. He was twenty two at the time, god it was so long ago.

"People say life was easier back then, different times, but they're wrong. Things just got covered up more back then, people have always been people. But Pete was a good man, took me under his wing, helped me survive."

"Why was Pete riding the rails?"

"Honestly, I don't know. All these years, you think I'd know, it was just something I never thought to ask. If you can imagine that. I just assumed he was like me, nowhere else to go. And when his brother showed up, it just solidified my beliefs. Neither one ever talked about home, never tried to get back, so I just left it at that."

"What do you mean his brother showed up?"

"Pete had been so excited, he was like a little kid again. He was about twenty four at the time and his brother was coming home from the service. Pete couldn't go, some medical reason, he never really went into it. A bit ashamed about it I think.

"But you see, when Benjamin actually came back, everything changed. I'd never met him before he left, but Pete had told me stories of him. He idolized him, wanted to be just like his big brother. But I guess war changed him, and that broke poor Pete."

"I don't really see what any of this has to do with me."

"You are so much like him, you have no idea. Over the years, we would catch glimpses of the man he used to be, the one Pete told stories of. It was sad, really, seeing the man he had once been, what time and fate had done to him. Over the years, he just grew more and more distant, and more self destructive. And then, he met her."

"Who?" Dean asked, leaning forward a little, his mind soaking up every bit of information it could.

"Her name was Kathy. She was a beautiful little thing, sad, but beautiful. Kind of like a neglected kitten. She was so shy, so skidding, and so young. The rails opened up a whole new world for her. You see, she lived just beyond the tracks, mountain folk we called them. They kept to their own kind, and they didn't think much of the world outside their little towns.

"But Kathy, well, she was a dreamer, and Benjamin was a story teller. Never makes a good mix. He got himself involved deeper than he thought, let that poor thing think he was going to marry her. Don't know how she would think that, a crazed boy from the trains and all, but who knows what that girl thought about reality.

"He didn't know what to do, so he hid from her. They met the same time, the train always stopped over night a few miles from her town. And the night she though he was going to take her away, we hid him. Sad really, poor little girl just sat there on the hill, battered suitcase in her hand, asking everyone she could find where Benjamin was, had anyone seen Benjamin. We just told her he'd decided to go on home to his family, and that she should do the same.

"It was a lie, we all knew it, but we thought we were helping her. This isn't a place to try and start a life. We thought we did right, thought we did good, but five years ago, Benjamin died. He'd always been plagued by nightmares of his time in the service, but one night, it just got to be too much. We heard him screaming three cars away, calling out to people long since gone, yelling that he was sorry, crying out for help. By the time we got there, he was dead, hair snow white.

"We thought his mind just finally snapped, that his body finally gave out to the torment he'd been put through, but then it started happening again and again."

"What do you think's causing it?"

"Vengeance. I've seen a lot in my time, child, more than you know. I kept as close a tabs on Kathy as I could, felt sorry for the poor thing, you know. She married, had a few kids. Her husband seemed like a good enough man, but poor Kathy was just broken beyond repair. The way she stared down the trains was terrifying, almost like she had the devil in her eyes. And then five years ago, she passed on.

"And three months later, on the anniversary of the day she was supposed to meet Benjamin, he died."

"But what about the others?"

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

Dean was about to speak, when he heard a loud roar come from the train, the horn blaring out over the mountains and forest as the train lurched forward, slowly picking up speed. It was leaving, the train was leaving and Sam wasn't on it.

"I have to go, my brother."

"You can't, we're thirty miles from the nearest town, no one will know you're missing. If your brother's smart, he's already on."

Dean knew she was right, knew there was nothing he could do but sit on the train and hope Sam was on it, too. He didn't like it, the idea of being separated from his brother weighing heavily in his chest. But it was the way things were, and as much as he hated it, there was nothing he could do.


	10. Chapter 10

_sorry for the long delay on this story as well as my others. life has just been crazy lately. thank you all so much for the great reviews, and i hope everyone is still enjoying the story. :)_

**IN TRANSIT**

Chapter 10

Sam sat in the boxcar, his mind moving almost as fast as the train itself. He and his brother were separated again, and Sam knew that he had to find Dean. Because, well, bad things always seemed to happen when they were apart. It wasn't his brother's injury that had the young hunter worried most; Dean had hunted hurt before. No, it was the other passengers, people like Pete and Raven, people that seemed to have an unnatural interest in Dean. It was unnerving to say the least and it just made Sam want to get to his brother even more.

"When's the train stop again?" Sam asked Molly.

The young girl had been staring out the door since they boarded the train, her eyes never blinking as she slowly rocked in time with the locomotive. It was almost like she was in some kind of trance, her mind blocking out the here and now as her heart drifted back to what she'd lost, what was now left in her past.

"Excuse me." Sam tried again.

"It depends, the next train yard is still about seven hours away." She began, never looking away from the passing scenery.

"Yeah." Sam began, peering out the open door. "I was afraid of that."

"The train could still stop, though. It's rained a lot in recent months, a lot more rock slides than normal."

"So, the short answer is you don't know."

"I guess so." She spoke, her voice level and emotionless.

Sam knew he had to act fast. She was slipping away again, falling back into her mind, blocking out the world around her; and Sam knew he couldn't let her do that. He needed answers, needed to know what was really going on, and he had a feeling that she knew. He wanted to get this hunt over with as fast as he could, before that creature showed up again, or his brother fell off the train.

"Before, in the forest, what were you talking about?" He asked, hoping that she wasn't too far gone to be helpful. He knew he was pushing her, knew he should have been giving her time to grieve, to be alone; but he also knew that he didn't have a moment to spare. Because, sooner or later, that thing would be back.

"Nothing that matters anymore." She whispered, still staring unblinking out the car door.

"You said the older ones told stories of the train being curse."

"It's an old story, told by old people, it doesn't matter."

"That's not what you said before."

The silence stretched between them for several tense moments, the growl of the train the only sound in the stillness. "Everyone tells stories." Molly began, Sam sitting beside her at the door, trying to look into her eyes.

"What kind of stories?"

"All kinds. Anyone can tell you that riders talk, tell stories, boast. But there was one story that was barely told, and when it was, it was just in whispers. It was more of a rumor than a story."

"What was it about?"

"A man that was here a few decades ago. He was called Benjamin. He was a man that came here after war. Everyone said that he used to be normal, but he changed while he was in the service, he got lost. That's all they would ever really say about him, that he got lost. There was a girl he supposedly loved, but he abandoned her, left her standing on the hill by the train, alone, forgotten. How can you claim to love someone and then leave them? They say it was for the better, but they were wrong.

"She got lost, too. Always lost." She mumbled.

Sam knew what she meant, could feel it in his soul. Whenever someone was troubled, whenever someone was different, broken beyond repair, people referred to them as lost. He didn't know what part of them was lost, what part of them was missing, but he always knew that those defined as 'lost' never had a hope in hell of being found. They were too far gone, too lost to the darkness of their own mind and soul, too forgotten.

It was something he had seen far too often in his short life, something he understood far too well. Most hunters could be described as lost. They were drifters, lost on the winds of the world, lost to the torrents of their own tortured minds, their own twisted lives. Once you were a hunter, Sam knew, you could never go back. He had tried, but no matter how normal he pretended to be, no matter how perfect Jessica made his life, he couldn't never forget what was really out there.

It plagued his dreams, invaded his mind at every hour. He scanned every street corner, challenged every shadow, and he knew nothing would ever change that. It was apart of him, something drilled so deeply into his mind that he knew he would never be able to shake it. No, his brother was right, they were freaks, and it was something he could never run from.

"What happened to the girl?" He asked, focusing again on the task at hand. He was afraid that if he let his mind wander he would be drawn back into the nightmares the creature had created, and he wasn't sure he could handle another attack.

His heart was still pounding, body still aching with the attacks he had already suffered through. There was a pressure in his chest, a pain deep down in his soul. His lungs burned with every breath he took, and his head felt like it was going to explode at any moment. All he wanted to do was rest, but he knew that that wasn't one of his current options.

"She stayed wherever it was he had left her. She was trapped, cursed to spend all her days living a life she hated. She had been a dreamer, and Benjamin had told her he could make them all come true. Her family punished her when they learned of her plans, and so she ran away, because he had promised her he'd be there. But he lied. She had no other option but to return home, and it was there that she faded away, fell into madness.

"She drifted further and further into the darkness as she aged, studied things no person should ever know. Some even say that she became a witch, a minion of the devil himself. She was just so full of rage and sorrow, so lost, that she could never be found. No one knows what she really did, but Benjamin was cursed with terrible nightmares right until the day he died.

"People say that she cursed the train, sending out nightmares, fears, making more of the lost follow her, bringing them into the darkness she had found comfort in. She feeds off of fears, off of loneliness. And she uses those fears to kill."

"But why?"

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

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Dean paced back and forth across the small boxcar, keenly aware of Raven's dark eyes; her gaze following his every movement. He was grateful to the woman for setting his arm, he really was, but he just wanted to get the hell away from her. Something about her was off, and his instincts told him to run like hell. There was more going on then met the eye, of that he was certain, and he knew he had to get to the bottom of it. He had to find Sam, had to tell him what he had learned, and then they needed to kill the thing, and get the hell off the trains. Because, deep down Dean knew that they were up against more than just the human fly from hell.

First things first, though, he had to find his brother. He knew he wasn't in any condition to be climbing around the cars, but he also knew he didn't have an option. He needed to get to Sam, sooner rather than later. For all his complaining, he had been thankful that Sam was there on his previous attempt at car hopping. He knew Sam would never let him fall, knew that his brother would do whatever he could to keep him on the train, even if that meant taping him to the ladder. Alone, well alone things were going to be tricky.

The first time he tried it Sam had held the back on his jacket the entire time, pulling him back up onto the pipes and ladders on more the one occasion. Truthfully, Dean wasn't even sure he could hop the cars without his brother's assistance. It wasn't like that was going to stop him from trying though, oh no, it was just gonna make things that much harder. He just hoped he would still be in one piece when he actually made it to wherever Sam was.

Dean shook his head before moving towards the door, surprised to see Raven jump to her feet the moment he pulled it open.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Uh, I'm gonna go look for my brother."

"You're in no condition to climb cars."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's still not gonna stop me."

"And what do you think he would do without you?" Raven asked, her eyes narrowing. If Dean didn't know any better, he would have thought she was trying to distract him.

"What did you say?" Dean tensed, turning slowly towards he woman, his voice a deadly whisper.

"How do you think he will react if you fall beneath the train?"

Dean steadied himself. He knew it could have just been an honest question, a keen observation on the woman's part, but something was wrong, and he knew it. That was the same fear that was currently running through his little brother's mind, the same nightmare the creature had created, the nightmare that was slowly killing Sam. So how in the hell did that woman know about it?

"You're lying to me." Dean spoke after a few tense moments. She stepped back at the words, obviously caught in a lie and Dean wanted to kick himself. Why in the world had he trusted her?

"Why would you say that?"

"Because it's the truth. That thing came after Sam, showed him me falling off a train."

Dean's fears were confirmed when Raven's eyes grew wide with both shock and horror. She knew what was happening, knew what the thing was, of that Dean was certain.

"What is it?" Dean growled, advancing on the woman. "What's on the train."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Bull. You know exactly what I mean. What the hell's on the train?"

He couldn't believe what he was seeing, what was going on. She was supposed to be one of the leaders on the train, the woman Martin and Molly had turned to in their troubled times, and she had let that thing after them. And now it was after Sam. But there was more to it then, that, something else beneath the surface, and he knew that Kathy and Benjamin were at the heart of it all. They were playing with people's lives, and Dean would be damned if he was going to let them continue.

Before Raven had the chance to speak, however, the train swayed violently, sending Dean flying into a stack of boxes. The last thing he saw was Raven climbing from the car; his world falling into darkness a moment later as the large crates crashed down on top of him.


	11. Chapter 11

_thank you again to everyone that had reviewed, it really makes my day. this chapter is a lot of setup, sorry for the lack of action, but it will be there shortly, i promise. enjoy. :)_

**IN TRANSIT**

Chapter 11

Sam climbed along the outside of the train, Molly not even flinching when he told her he was leaving. She had slipped away, fallen into the deep recesses of her own mind, and Sam knew there was no way to pull her back out. She had just lost the only person in the world the mattered to her, and she believed that those who had promised to look after them were responsible. It was just another blow in her life of sorrow, and the youngest Winchester knew, no matter how much he didn't want to admit it, that the girl before him was beyond his reach, and she always would be.

He shook his head, focusing on the train, his hands holding onto the ladder with a white knuckle grip. He wanted to get to his brother before Dean tried anything stupid, well anything stupider than her normally tried. He knew Dean, knew he was going to try and find him, going to go out on the train when he was in no condition to. And, once again, images began to flash through Sam's already aching mind.

He tightened his grip as the images began their terrible progression, each one more devastating, more terrifying than the next. He could see Dean's eyes, wide and searching, as he lost his grip; see his brother struggle as he slowly slipped beneath the train, the hems of his jeans catching in the churning wheels.

"No!" Sam screamed, shaking his head, trying desperately to force the images from his mind. Dean was fine, he was alive and in one of the cars. He knew it was true, no matter what his mind tried to tell him, no matter what the nightmares showed. Dean was alive, Sam had to believe that.

He opened his eyes, his senses returning to him. He was back in the present, safe from his mind once again. But, even though he had managed to shake the nightmare, the after effect remained. He felt like he had run a marathon, his muscles aching, heart beating fast in his chest. He hurt, plain and simple. His breath was coming in quick, shallow gasps, his skin covered with a thin layer of sweat, head pounding. It had almost done it again, the creature killing him with his own fears, fears of losing his brother.

It was a fear he had had ever since he learned what hunting was, what was really out there in the dark. Even when he was at Stanford he was terrified to answer the phone, afraid that, one day, it would be his father, telling him Dean had not survived, that Dean was gone. It was something unfathomable, and yet all to real to the young hunter, and it was something that was going to end up destroying him. He didn't think he could live life knowing Dean wasn't there, just a phone call away. Sure, he never called him, but the option had always been there, and that was the only thing that got the young man through most of his life.

Sam sighed out in relief when he made it to the log wagon. He wasn't entirely sure which direction to go when he left Molly, but he knew that Raven's car was just beyond the last of the ten log wagons. Now, Sam thought, edging his way around the side of the car, let this be lucky wagon number ten. He took several deep breaths, his back pressed again the boxcar, as he looked down at the ground below him, the dirt rushing by beneath the train.

Unlike the train cars, the log wagon was nothing more than a open platform. Which meant, no ladders, and no pipes, just a good, old fashion pile of dead trees. Sam steadied himself, focusing on nothing other than the logs in front of him. He didn't need a broken arm, or a broke anything for that matter, and he also didn't want to have his brother hovering over his every move. No, he had to do this right. And hell, how hard could it be, westerns did it all the time.

Sam took one last breath and jumped, leaping towards the logs before his rambling inner monologue had a chance to continue. He felt himself slide as he hit the wood, his hands searching for something to hold onto as the motion of the train, along with his own momentum, sent him careening towards the edge of the wagon. Moments before he fell over the side, Sam's left hand found a hold; his fingers wrapping around a large nylon tie down. He held on for all he was worth, taking a few minutes to catch his breath before straightening.

He cursed, kneeling back down when the train took a bend faster then was probably wise. He could only see the wagon he was on and the five cars past it. He had no idea if there was another log wagon further down the train. He could feel his heart beat quicken with each passing second. He needed to get to Dean, needed to find his brother, and then they both needed to figure out what the hell was going on. It was more than just an angry spirit, it had to be. Sam didn't know why, but something in the back of his mind was screaming at him, telling him that there was much more going on than met the eye.

And that feeling was brought on by more than just the way the riders looked at his brother. It was in the way they spoke, the way they regarded each other, and in the story Molly had just told him. The rails were a place for secrets, a place lives could be lived in a haze of lies and deceit, and Sam and Dean had fallen right into the middle of one of their biggest secrets. The youngest Winchester couldn't help but feel like they had been lured into their current predicament, like they had been played. True, Dean falling from the train was an accident, but everything else that followed just seemed strange to him. Well, stranger then a human fly killing people with nightmares.

He knew they were using his brother, knew they were after him. He couldn't put his finger on how he knew, it was just something he could feel deep in his bones. There was more to the story then he knew, and Dean was the key to it. But then, they were Winchesters, so really, their luck was right on track. No matter what, they always seemed to pick the absolute wrong hunt. Even things that were easy as pie for other hunters were a headache if you were a Winchester.

Sam just sighed, steadying himself, before moving along the logs, his long legs proving to be more of a hinderance then anything. He was trying to stay low, stay out of the wind, but his body seemed to have other things in mind, his knees pounding painfully against his chest every time the train swayed or lurched. He really, really hated freight hoping, and he was going to make sure Dean knew just that when he found him. Because Sam refused to let himself believe that he wouldn't make it to his brother.

Dean was fine, he had to be. Sam was certain that, if something had happened to his brother, he would have known about it. After all, what good were psychic abilities if they didn't work for the person that mattered most. No, Dean was alright, safe in a boxcar, and Sam wouldn't let anything make him think different. He could feel the nightmares growing in him again as he climbed, the dreams coming at him stronger and stronger each time they resurfaced. The attacks were getting closer and closer together the longer the creature lived, almost as though they were trying to drown him, break him down until he was powerless to stop them.

One moment, he saw Dean sitting in a boxcar, berating him for being late, the next, he saw his arm, watched as his brother tried one last time to keep from slipping beneath the wheels. Flash. He heard Dean laughing, watched a smirk spread across his face, delighted in his own ill timed joke. Then, in an instant he was gone, a pine box the only thing that remained of the man Sam had once believed to be larger than life. There was no more smirk, no more devilish glint in green eyes, no more 'Sammy'. It was all gone, turned to dust, lost in the back of history.

"Leave me alone!" Sam shouted, the roar of the train deafening as he regained his senses. He was half hanging from the logs, his body shaking as the adrenaline left him. His left arm was tangled painfully in the nylon straps, his left knee propped against a side of a log, while the rest of his body hung out over nothing. And an instant later Sam realized with frightening clarity that the only thing keeping him on the train, was a tangled mass of rope.

"Holy shit." He breathed, pulling himself up by his now aching arm. Inches, he was only inches away from dying. His heart was pounding, breath coming out in short, shaky gasps. He scanned the length of the train, searching for the creature, certain that it was there. But he saw nothing.

He wiped his hand across his brow when he finally managed to pull himself up. He was covered in a cold sweat, his body shaking, numbness clouding his vision, and dulling his mind. He just needed to get to a boxcar, any boxcar, he just needed to rest. He barely had enough energy to keep his eyes open, but he knew that, if he went to sleep, he would be plunged into the nightmares once more. And if he had this many problems with them when he was awake, he couldn't imagine what it would be like if he actually slept.

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Pain. That's all Dean could comprehend; pain and darkness. He didn't know what he had been doing, but whatever it was, he was sure as hell not gonna do it again. His arm and head were throbbing, back aching. If he didn't know any better, he would have been certain that something was tossing him around the room. And then, instantly, the memories came back. He was on a hunt, on a train, and Sam was missing.

"Sammy." Dean breathed, forcing his eyes opened, but the darkness was still there. "What the hell?" He tried to push himself up, to reach a weapon, hell, to simple move, but nothing seemed nearly as easy as it was supposed to be.

He took a few deep breaths, willing the darkness around him to stop spinning, his vision slowly focusing on what was currently keeping him stationary. Boxes, or more precisely, large, heavy, wooden crates.

"Son of bitch." Dean moaned, taking stock of his body. Every last inch of him was beneath the crates, his broken right arm stretched above him, pinned in place by both wood and pain. He was laying on his side, his legs twisted beneath him, bits and pieces of broken boxes driving into his back. All in all, he felt like he'd been run over by a train; no pun intended of course.

He shifted his legs, thankful when he felt the boxes tip and slide, the crates on top of him creaking and breaking as they fell to the boxcar floor. He tried pushing himself up again, biting his lip against the pain that was shooting through his right arm. He just needed to shift the boxes a little more, then he could slide his way out from under them. He didn't know how long he'd been out, or where Raven had gotten to. Something was up with her, and Dean prayed to any deity that was listening that she wasn't going after Sam, or worse yet, sending that creature after his little brother.

It was fifteen long and agonizing minutes later when Dean finally freed himself of his wooden prison. He held his injured arm close to his chest, the pain so great that Dean was sure he would either pass out or lose his lunch, neither scenario being all the enticing. He leaned against the wall for several long minutes, his breathing deep and even, the cold air helping to lessen both the pain and nausea. He needed to get to Sam, and fast.

His brother was still suffering from the effects of the creature, his body growing weaker and weaker with each passing moment, shock setting in each time his mind wandered back to the nightmares. It wasn't like his little brother didn't have enough to torment him at night, now a bunch of hobos were sicking a human fly thing on him as well. Dean cursed when he finally opened his eyes, his heart sinking when the world around him remained painfully out of focus. But he couldn't dwell on that. Sam was in danger, and that trumped all.

Dean took one last, deep breath before looking out the door of the boxcar, the air rushing by him as he stood on the ledge. Every fiber of his being was screaming 'bad idea' in unison, but Dean knew he didn't have a choice. He had to get to his brother, and then he had to figure out what exactly was going on. Because he was now certain that this was way, way more then an angry spirit. So, really, Sam was right, not that Dean was ever going to tell him that.

The elder Winchester pushed that thought from his mind, he'd let Sammy gloat later, right now he just had to make it to his little brother in one piece. Dean looked both ways down the train, not at all sure which direction is brother was in, and the flashing, no signal sign on his cellphone wasn't doing anything to improve his mood. So, Dean just took a guess, and went with it. He knew Raven's car was near the end of the train, the few cars past him being populated entirely by Raven and Pete's 'family'. No, if Sam took refuge anywhere, it was in the cars before the log wagon, of that Dean was certain, well, almost certain.

Dean slid out onto the side of the car, his breath catching, right arm wrapping around the ladder when he felt his feet slip. Four inches out the door and already in trouble. Dean fumbled for a few minutes, breathing out only when he had both feet firmly on the ladder. He looked down the side of the boxcar, his heart sinking when he saw just how far away the other ladder was. Sure, there were pipes and footholds along the way, but with only one working arm, Dean knew that it wasn't a question of if he fell, it was when.

He rested his forehead against the cold metal of the ladder, cursing beneath his breath. He needed to get to Sam, but he also knew that he wouldn't be much help to his little brother if he was in pieces. No, he needed to find a way to get further then a few inches from the door, and not fall off the side of a moving train. A sudden idea hit Dean, the hunter looking above him instead of from side to side.

"Why the hell didn't we think of that before?" Dean mumbled, slowly pulling himself up the cold and slippery ladder. It wasn't easy by any means, but it was a hell of a lot easier then trying to slide his way, one armed, down the side of the train. After ten minutes, three near falls, and a countless stream of curses, Dean let out a long sigh of relief, his back resting against the cool metal of the boxcar's roof.

He smiled to himself, kicking the metal hard, "Who's injured now." Dean chided. He stayed where he was a few more minutes, willing away the pain the short climb had caused him. In reality, he should have been up the ladder and down the train in just a few minutes, but well, at that moment he was gonna take what he could get.

Finally getting both his pain and exhaustion under control Dean rolled to his side, peering up and down the train, his heart stopping when his green eyes fell on Sam. His brother was laying against one of the logs just behind him, the younger man clutching his head, his face pressed against the trees beneath him. And then, a moment later, he began to slide towards the edge. Dean picked himself up and ran to the back of the car as fast as he could, the train swaying and lurching beneath his feet. He let out a breath when he saw his little brother's arm slid into the nylon tethers, effectively stopping Sam's downward decent.

He came to a stop by the back of the boxcar, his heart beat slowing as he watching Sam try to pull himself back up onto the logs, the younger man regaining his senses almost as quickly as he had lost them. But Dean's relief was short lived when he looked down the train, his eyes locking on those of the creature, the beast staring at him once more, before disappearing into a distant car.


	12. Chapter 12

_yay! another chapter. thank you to everyone that reviewed, it means the world to me. i hope this chapter doesnt disappoint. we are nearing the end now, just a few chapters left to go. enjoy!!_

**IN TRANSIT**

Chapter 12

Pete sat in the empty train car, his head resting against the wall, eyes closed. It was so close to being over. Everything was finally falling into place, he just had to hold on for a little bit longer. It had all been a simple mistake, nothing more, just an accident. But, somewhere along the line, everything had spiraled out of control, and he had to put a stop to it. It was his job to fix it, and he was certain that he would be able to do it. He just needed to figure out a way, just needed to keep them apart long enough, needed to make them understand.

It wasn't his fault, wasn't his doing. Time changed the best of men, and Pete claimed no fault in the way things had turned out. It was all just a misunderstanding, a hiccup in their plans, a deviation from the way their lives had been. There was nothing he could have done, no way he could have stopped what happened. No, life just followed the way it was meant to, their pasts vanishing as the present wiped away all they could have been, silencing their dreams and hopes with an all encompassing darkness. It wasn't his fault, wasn't anyone's fault, it was just a mistake.

"Pete." Raven's strong voice cut through the heavy air, the old man pushing his eyes open at the sound.

He couldn't do this now, couldn't listen to her berate him, belittle him for something that was beyond his control. He was making a life out of what he had been given, just like the rest of them, so why should he be held responsible for the problems that had developed along the way.

"Pete."

"What, Raven?" He asked, his voice nowhere near as stern as it normally was. In all honesty, he was tired. Life had beaten him down, had left him alone and broken on forgotten railway lines. He wanted things to be the way they were supposed to be, the way they had been. It wasn't fair, wasn't right. Everything in his life had been taken from him, and people were still trying to take more.

"You need to reconsider your plan."

"He's perfect."

"He's stronger then Benjamin ever was."

Pete stood, rounding on the woman before him, his eyes lit with fire. But Raven didn't back down or flinch. "You know nothing of my brother."

"I know enough to see the difference."

"The boy's perfect." Pete stated again, trying with everything that was in him to make Raven see, to open her eyes to the reality that was around her. He was perfect. "He's so much like him, Raven."

"And he's vastly different at the same time."

"It's close enough."

"Pete, please. Rethink this."

"It's the only way, Raven. You want the killings to stop? You want to live on this train in peace? This is the only way."

"They're children."

"I've already told you that I'm sorry about that. But, Raven, we have no other choice."

"They know."

"Know what?"

"About what lives in the dark, about what's killing on the train."

"How do you know?"

"The older one told me. That's why they're here."

"It doesn't matter." Pete lied, turning away from the woman's dark gaze. It didn't matter, he told himself again, his eyes sliding closed as cold air bit at his face.

"There has to be another way."

"You know there isn't."

"But you have no idea if this will work or not."

"It will, Raven." Pete spoke earnestly, turning imploring eyes to her. "It will."

"This may be something no one can fix."

"All mistakes can be fixed."

"Is letting them die really fixing anything?"

"You'd rather I let this go? Rather I told more girls like Molly when their men are dying. They're outsiders, Raven, no one will miss them."

"Pete."

"I won't leave my brother to suffer. I can fix this."

666666666666

Dean stood stock still on the back of the car, his mind racing, heart beating fast. The creature had just stared at him, locked eyes with him, and then it had left. It hadn't filled his mind with nightmares, hadn't tried to kill him. It just acknowledged him, and left, searching the train for another victim. He couldn't move, his eyes refusing to leave the spot where he had last seen the creature. It seemed so incredibly human in those few short seconds, its face and eyes taking on an almost calming effect. In all honesty, it looked sad.

"Dean! Down!" Sam's shout brought Dean back to reality, the older Winchester throwing himself down on the top of the train car mere seconds before they were plunged into a small, dark tunnel.

Dean could feel the fierce wind against his back, the howl of the train piercing his ears as they traveled through the darkness. He knew, even without looking, that his back was mere inches away from the roof of the tunnel and he stayed as flat as he could against the cool metal. He could feel it heating up beneath him, the friction building with each passing second. He could still hear his brother calling his name, but he didn't dare raise his head high enough to shout an answer. His back was starting to burn, muscles aching as he held himself low against the boxcar.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Dean felt the cool air on his back once more, the light returning as the train left the tunnel. But Dean didn't move, he just stayed where he was, his forehead resting against the metal beneath him, body shaking as the adrenaline dissipated. That had been way, way too close.

"Dean? Dean?" Dean heard Sam call him again, his brother's voice much closer then it had been a few minutes before.

"I hate trains." Dean groused, looking up into his brother's worries eyes, Sam standing on the ladder at the back of the boxcar.

"I thought this was your childhood dream?"

"Yeah well, my childhood was twisted."

"You alright, dude?" Sam asked, his voice laced with concern. After all, it wasn't everyday his big brother admitted he was wrong about something.

"Oh yeah, I'm just great. How about you? I saw you're acrobatics on the logs."

"I'm fine."

"You didn't look all that fine."

"Yeah well, I've just gotta keep a lid on the nightmares. Which, by the way, you nearly getting your head chopped off isn't gonna help."

"Whoops." Dean mumbled, sliding to his knees, his right arm held close to his body.

"Whoops? That's all you have to say?"

"I was a little preoccupied with bug dude."

"You saw him?"

"Yeah, a couple of minutes ago, about ten cars down."

"You're sure?"

"Well, now that I think about it, it may have been a moth."

"Whatever dude, let's just get back inside before there's another tunnel."

"Fine by me." Dean winced as Sam pulled him to his feet, the two making their way slowly down the roof of the boxcar.

They looked like they'd both been to hell and back, Dean's body shaking from both pain and adrenaline, while Sam looked like he was in the throws of a long disease. All in all, they looked more like the hunted then the hunters. The creature and the trains had done a number on the brothers, beating them down with each passing moment. Dean was tired, his battered body aching, arm throbbing once more. And Sam was paler then Dean had ever seen him, a thin layer a sweat coating his body as he shook with shock.

Dean tried to straighten under his brother's weight, but Sam's grip tightened around him as he tried to move away. He was supposed to be looking out for Sam, not the other way around. He had been the one that wanted to go on the hunt in the first place, all while his brother tried to talk him out of it. And now, well now Dean wished he had listened to his little brother. Sam looked like hell, his body weak, skin cool to the touch. Dean had no idea what was keeping him going. It seemed now like every time Sam closed his eyes he was thrown back into the nightmares, the after effects growing worse with each attack. And he was afraid that they were almost out of time.

"You look like crap, Sammy." Dean sighed, sliding down the wall of the boxcar as Sam pulled the heavy door closed.

"Right back at you."

"I mean it."

"So do I."

"Sam."

"Look, Dean, you're right, I feel like crap, but there's nothing we can do about it right now. The only thing we can do is finish the hunt."

"Sure thing, Rambo."

"Did you find anything out?" Sam asked, rubbing his hands over his face and sitting next to his brother.

Dean looked at Sam long and hard, taking in his haggard appearance. He needed to find a way to fix this, needed to get Sam out of there before he was lost to the nightmares permanently.

"Yeah, actually, I think Raven's in on whatever's going on?"

"Really? Why do you say that?"

"Let's just say that I have my reasons." Dean answered. He didn't want to mention the nightmares, afraid that just speaking on them would send Sam into another emotional tailspin. They were balanced on the edge of a knife, and Dean was afraid that even the slightest mistake would cause both he and his brother to fall.

"Thanks for the cryptogram. Are you any closer to figuring out what's going on? Or are you just pegging Raven as the bug master?"

"Well, smart ass, it turns out that Pete had an older brother."

"Benjamin."

"How the hell did you know that?" Dean asked, eyeing his brother suspiciously. "Has your freaky vision thing been working this whole time?"

"Molly told me. Well, she told me a story about a guy named Benjamin, I just assumed we were talking about the same person."

"You know what happens when you assume, Sammy."

"Are you done being stupid, because we have a bug man to hunt."

"I'm just saying, Sam." Dean raised his hands innocently, a smirk plastered on his face.

"What do you know about Benjamin?" Sam asked, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath for patients.

"Well, from what Raven tells me he was Pete's big brother. Pete loved the guy, worshiped the ground he walked on, but Ben went away to war. And, when he came back, he was different."

"Different like demon different?"

"Nah, more like 'I've seen horrible things' different."

"So, what happened?"

"Well apparently, he fell for this girl, told her he was gonna take her away. But, at the last minute, Raven and Pete hid him and told her he ditched her. Girl got pissed, and then got 'the devil in her eye' and five years ago, both her and Benjamin bit it."

"That's right when the killings started."

"Bingo. Ben was number one."

"That's basically the same thing Molly told me, that this girl went dark side and cursed the train. So, burn her bones?"

"I don't know, Sam, I just feel like we're missing something."

"And you think it's Raven? What aren't you telling me?" Sam asked, his brown eyes boring into his brother. "Dean."

"It's just, she kept telling me how much I was like him. And she still won't call me by my name which is creepy in it's own right."

"She said you were just like Benjamin?"

"Well, she did and she didn't. The whole conversation had a real strong Yoda vibe about it."

"What else did she say?"

"Uh, apparently, Ben had been having nightmares for years. She didn't know if it was an after affect of the service or Kathy."

"So what? It could be Kathy, or it could be Ben, or it could be something else entirely?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much the gist of it."

"So we still have no clue?"

"Yeah, looks that way."

"Well that's just great." Sam began, rubbing his forehead.

"You alright, dude?"

"Yeah, nothing a few days sleep wouldn't fix." Sam began, his eyes slowly sliding closed.

"Yo, Sammy, stay with me."

"Huh?"

"You gotta stay awake." Dean began, turning to kneel before his brother.

He could feel his heart beating faster and faster as the seconds passed. Sam had been awake and lucid just a few seconds before, but now he was fading fast. He slumped forward into Dean's arms, his head falling on his should, muscles going lax as he struggled to stay awake.

"Sammy? Come on."

"Dean, I can't."

"Yes you can, Sam, stay with me." Dean couldn't help the tremor that cut through his voice, his mind going into over drive. It was like he was being attacked all over again.

Attacked again! Dean spun on his knees, Sam's large frame still resting against him as he reached for his gun. He pulled out his .45, and pointed it towards the roof of the boxcar, pulling Sam a bit closer as he pulled the trigger. He hear a bone rattling screech echo through the large canyon around them, the metal above them creaking down under the weight of the beast's claws before it jumped to another car.

Dean let out a long sigh of relief when he heard the thing leave, his injured arm still wrapped protectively around his brother. He slid the gun into the waistband of his jeans, taking one more look at the dented ceiling before turning his eyes back to Sam. And what he saw made his heart skip a beat.

Sam was as white as a sheet, his eyes half opened, breathing short and raspy. His entire body was shaking, the tremors coming with such force that Dean was finding it difficult to keep a grip on his little brother. He was going into shock, slipping away right there in his arms.

"Sammy, come on, dude. Wake up."

"Dean, please no." Sam mumbled, the tremors growing more violent as he spoke. "Please god."

"Sam, listen to me, I'm right here."

"It hurts so much." Sam mumbled, and though his eyes had finally opened, Dean wasn't sure what he was actually seeing.

"Just listen to me."

"Why won't it stop. Just make it end, make it leave."

"Sammy?"

"Make it leave, make it go away."

"Sam, listen to me, follow my voice, just like before."

"Why?"

"Why, because I'm asking you to." Dean answered, a bit taken back by the question.

"Why, please, just leave me alone."

"Sam!" Dean yelled, grabbing Sam by the shoulders with his good arm. "Wake up!"

"Please."

"No! Wake up! You're in a train car, we're hunting a bug dude."

"No."

"Yes! Snap out of it."

"Dean?" Sam asked a few minutes later, Dean letting out a breath when he felt his brother's tremors begin to lessen.

"Yeah, Sammy."

"It's after him."

"After who?"

"Pete."

"What, how do you know?"

"Because it thinks I'm him."


	13. Chapter 13

_wow, quick update!!! this story is drawing to a close, hope you all enjoy the ride. once again, thank you everyone for the great reviews, they make my day:) _

**IN TRANSIT**

Chapter 13

"Come again?" Dean asked, helping his brother to sit.

"That thing think's I'm Pete." Sam stated again, his voice a little stronger. He knew it sounded ridiculous, but he also knew what he had seen. That thing had called him Pete, and that wasn't even the half of it. Sam looked up into his brother's worried eyes, wondering exactly where he should start. This hunt had gone from bad to worse, to down right hellish, and the youngest Winchester wasn't sure which way was up any longer.

"Why, it's not like you two share a striking resemblance."

"I don't think that's it."

"So what, it shows you a nightmare and then says 'oh, by the way, I think you're an old guy named Pete'?"

"Not exactly."

"Then what, exactly?"

"It showed me something, different." Sam added, rubbing his forehead. He felt like his head was going to explode, his body aching. It was almost as though he'd run a marathon in one hundred degree heat. He could feel every nerve firing, his stomach turning as the world around him began to tilt.

"Different how, Sammy?" Dean began, rubbing Sam's back, his voice curt. Sam could only imagine what this was doing to his brother. Dean had put his safety above all else, and he could only imagine what his big brother was going through at that moment; forced to watch as something slowly killed him with thoughts.

"It showed me things."

"Noted, can you move this along a little bit?"

"They were like memories, like the nightmares, but they weren't my memories."

"So he showed you Pete's?"

"No."

"Then who?"

"I have no idea."

"You know, I can tell when you're lying to me."

Sam looked up at his brother's accusation, Dean's knowing green eyes boring into him. It was true, Dean always seemed to know when he was lying, and now was no different. "I'm not sure, but I think maybe Ben's."

"Ben's?"

"Like I said, I'm not sure, but it seems so."

"Why the hell would bug man show you Ben's memories?"

"Who knows."

"Alright." Dean began, rubbing his face. Sam knew he was worried, knew his older brother's brain was running a mile a minute, trying to find a way out of their current mess. It wasn't his fault, but Sam knew that Dean would blame himself not matter what. "What did you see?"

"War at first. Then the trains."

"Well, at least that's a start."

"Dean, there's something else."

"Oh man, what?"

"I'm not just seeing his memories, I'm feeling them, too."

"What, like pain?" Dean asked, his good arm immediately going to Sam, searching for any sign of injuries or illness.

"Not like that." Sam began, pushing his brother's arm away. "Like, if he's scared, sad, happy, that kind of stuff."

"That's weird."

"I know. It's almost like I was Ben."

"And bug man did that?"

"I'm just as confused as you are, man."

"So, what were you feeling when he was at war?"

"Afraid, sad. He just wanted to be home again, he kept thinking about his brother."

"Pete?"

"He never actually said Pete. It was just brother."

"It talked to you?"

"Not really. It was all just a kind of feeling."

"So, he wanted his brother?"

"Yeah, it was the same with the trains, expect he was still worried, still kind of scared."

"Well, Raven said that he came back from the war different, and that it kind of destroyed Pete."

"So maybe he was afraid for his brother?"

"Makes sense."

"But why show me, Dean. I mean, what the hell am I gonna do?" Sam asked, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. Why the hell did things like this always happen to him. Yeah, he knew that being psychic was like being a lightning rod, but he still seemed to get more of the creepy, save me, vibes then anyone else.

He didn't know what he was supposed to do for Benjamin, if he was supposed to do anything. The creature killed people with fright, end of story, so why was it trying to reach out to him now?

"We'll figure it out, Sammy."

"Yeah, sure."

"I promise, Sam. I'll figure this out."

"And what about next time, or the time after that?" Sam asked exasperated. He'd only been back with his brother for a few months and his life was already shot to hell.

"Look, Sam, let's just focus on now, we'll worry about your other ghosty buddies when they come a knockin."

"I'm sorry, I'm just tired."

"It's fine, Sam. And I promise we'll figure this out. Wouldn't want those lovely locks of yours to turn grey. No one would believe I was the older one." Dean smiled, punching Sam in the arm.

"Yeah, you'll have to start doing what I say."

"You wish. So, back to buggy? He show you anything else?"

"The train mostly, just how things went over time. And this woman."

"Kathy."

"Who?"

"The woman he left at the side of the tracks. The one that supposedly cursed the train."

"Sure, yeah. Her I guess, then." Sam began, rubbing his forehead as his headache began to grow.

"What was she doing?"

"Just standing there."

"And?"

"And what?"

"How did that make you feel?"

"What are you, my shrink?"

"Just answer the question."

"I don't know, weird. It was like he was happy and sad at the same time, worried, but also excited."

"So, no 'you're the love of my life'?"

"No, definitely not. More like, 'you're what I've got, but I'm not sure I want it.'"

"Harsh."

"He didn't actually say it to her, Dean."

"Still."

"You're telling me that you never felt that way?"

"This isn't about me, Sammy. Anything else?"

"Uh, one last thing. Darkness. I saw Kathy, and then everything got dark."

"Like he passed out?"

"No, like he's trapped in the darkness. And it's terrifying."

"Well, Raven said that he was the creature's first victim. Maybe that's why he feels that way."

"I don't know, it feels different. It isn't like he's afraid of something. It's like he is fear."

"How can someone be fear?"

"Got me." Sam began, moving towards his duffle. He had an idea, something about Benjamin that was gnawing at the back of his brain. He was the key to it all, the source of the mystery, and Sam could feel himself getting closer and closer to the answers. Something had happened five year before, something that had set all of the current events in motion, and it was something involving Benjamin. Yeah, he was the creature's first victim, but there was more to the story then anyone would tell, of that Sam was certain. And he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"How is more research going to help us now?"

"Just, give me a second, I have an idea." Sam stated, his laptop already open on his knees. He just had to look into a few things, just had to answer a few questions.

Kathy, she was the root of it all, the answer to their questions. He knew that Benjamin was the key, but Kathy was the catalyst, he just had to figure out what really happened to her. He was sure that, once he learned the secrets the cryptic woman held, everything else would fall into place.

"Did Raven tell you anything about Kathy, about what happened to her?"

"Just that she got married and had a couple kids. Died a few months before Benjamin. Why? You think she's our bug master?"

"I don't know. But it would make sense. Molly said that Kathy 'got lost'. That's all she kept saying. That she got lost and turned to dark magic."

"Yeah, Raven didn't really go into it, but she seemed to suspect Kathy, too. So then, it's Kathy."

"Maybe."

"What maybe, it seems pretty damn likely."

"Yeah, but it's not a spirit, it would look like her."

"Maybe she was ugly."

"Could you please be serious."

"Then what, Sammy?"

"A Cur."

"What's a Cur?"

"It's a demon, it brings about people's worst fears and nightmares." Sam read from the screen, his heart beating faster and faster with each passing moment. "They are normally found around lakes and wells, drowning people that get too close, but they can also be summoned and trapped."

"So what? Like a demonic hit-man?"

"Pretty much. They stalk people, filling their minds with fear, until it eventually kills them."

"But Kathy's dead, so who's controlling it now?"

"It shouldn't be anyone. Apparently, once the person that summons the thing dies, it's free."

"So it's free and killing?"

"It shouldn't be. It should have just left, I don't know why it's still here."

"Unless, it still has a job to do for, Kathy." Dean began, checking through their provisions as he spoke.

It all clicked in Sam's head, Dean's words opening up a door. Kathy died before the Cur's job was finished, and for some reason, the thing was killing without regard. Or was it? "Dean, the people that died, do they have anything in common?"

"All men."

"Anything else?"

"I don't think so, hang on." Dean began, pulling out a manila folder.

Sam knew they had been through it all, knew they had gone over everything with a fine tooth comb, but there still had to be something, a thread they had missed. And, by the look of horror on his older brother's face, Dean had found it. "Dean? What is it?"

"Brothers."

"Huh?"

"The men that died, they all had an older brother."

"Are you sure?" Sam began, pulling the folder from his brother's lax hand. It was true, every last person had been someone's younger brother. It wasn't obvious, just a fact stated in passing, mumbled about in obituaries, but it was there, and now it seemed to be staring them in the face. Brothers, just like Pete and Benjamin. But, if Kathy had been angry with Benjamin, then why wasn't the Cur going after older brothers, why younger?

"Dean, I missed it, too." Sam began, noticing that Dean hadn't spoken since finding the information. "Dean?"

"Don't you dare say that this isn't my fault." Dean began, his voice dangerously low.

"It's not."

"Oh really, so I didn't bring you here with a freaking bull's eye on your back?"

"We can't think about that now, Dean. We've got other problems."

"Like what?"

"Like why it's going after younger brothers. She was pissed at Ben, so why not go after the older ones? There's something we're missing."

"Well don't look at me, I wouldn't be able to figure something out if it bit me in the ass."

"You know, moping isn't gonna to help. I missed it, you missed it, be both screwed up, so let it go."

"Wow, you should be a motivational speaker."

"Can we just focus?"

"Alright, so, why older brothers?" Dean asked, his eyes brightening after his brother's words. Sam knew he was worried, knew he blamed himself for having brought them on the hunt in the first place. But he also knew there wasn't anything they could do about that now. He had to keep Dean focused, had to keep him from slipping into big brother martyr mode. Because, if that happened, then he knew they would both be screwed.

Dean meant well, he really did, but when it came to Sam, he turned into a different person. He was reckless and rash, and those were two things that he couldn't be while trying to hunt down creatures on a moving train.

"You sure there wasn't anything else it that emotion sharing of yours?"

Sam thought back to Benjamin's memories, focusing on the one of Kathy. She was a beautiful girl, her mousy brown hair falling down her shoulders in waves, brown eyes large and full of love and wonder. And her smile; she had a smile that could have melted the coldest day. In that instant, she was the closest thing to perfection Sam had ever seen. She was full of trust, full of caring, of that the younger Winchester was certain, but she was so young, so naive.

Sam let his entire mind rest on the charming girl before him, her voice floating to his ears like rain on a deep summer night. He was amazed by her, his entire body warming in her presence, fear dissipating as he stared long into her deep eyes. She could make life full again, could take the fear away with nothing more than a smile, could repair his soul with a soft laugh. He wanted her, maybe not to love, but to save him. He wanted to take her away, to keep her with him, to shelter her, make sure she remained innocent. The world was so full of sorrow, so darkened by pain and death, but here, in that one moment in time, in that small pocket of space, he found something worth fighting for. And he didn't want anything to tarnish her shining spirit.

But there was a voice coming to him, gnawing away at him, infiltrating his mind. He was afraid, afraid that, if he took her away, she would see too much of the world, would fall to the darkness that had claimed him. He didn't want to hurt her, but he didn't want to put her in danger either. He had thought that he could keep her safe, that he could take her away, save her innocents, preserve her spirit. But, what if he was wrong. No, he couldn't do that to her, couldn't break her, couldn't let the outside world take her away. He had to leave her.

"Pete." Sam breathed, his eyes opening, though the image of Kathy remained with him. "Pete made Benjamin leave her."

"Raven said Ben chickened out."

"No. It was Pete that talked him into leaving her. Benjamin wanted her, wanted to take her away."

"Away from what?"

"Reality. The war destroyed him. He saw people killing, lying, basically every dark thing a person could do, and he though that if he took Kathy with him, he could save her from all that. I wish you could have seen her, Dean, she was beautiful, but so young."

"So, why would Pete tell him to leave her?"

"I don't know." Sam began, just as the train ground to a halt, the broken crates around them tipping and sliding as the locomotive slowed. "Where are we?"

"Kathy's town. Raven said that the train always stopped here. Well." Dean began, pushing himself to his feet. "I guess if we want answers we gotta go right to the source."

"Pete."

"Yup, and what do you wanna bet he's up by Kathy's house."


	14. Chapter 14

_here is it, another update. i thought this was going to be the final chapter, but i just couldnt fit it all in. so... one more chapter after this one. I hope you all enjoy. And thank you all once again for the great reviews, they mean the world to me. _

**IN TRANSIT**

Chapter 14

Dean peered around the door of the boxcar, watching as people began leaving the train; it was obvious to the hunter that they were going to be there a while. He looked back over at his brother, Sam laying flat on his back, arms covering his head. Dean couldn't help but feel guilty as he scanned his brother, knowing that the younger man's pain was his fault. He had gone into this hunt without all the information, and now his little brother was paying the price.

Dean shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the moment at hand. They were still in Raven's car, which meant that they were right in the middle of her little community, and Dean didn't know if that was good or bad. On one hand, they could see all of her little buddies, which would make it easier to find Pete. But, on the other hand, they were right in the middle of enemy territory, and the elder hunter didn't know how that would go over with the locals. He and his brother were in no shape to fight, and Dean just hoped that they could get this hunt over and done with before any of the riders came looking for them.

Just as Dean was turning back into the boxcar, something caught his eye. It was Pete, and he was heading up into the hills that surrounded the tracks. Dean let a small smile play across his face. Finally, something was going their way.

"Bingo. Hey, Sammy." Dean began, moving back over to his brother's side. Sam didn't move, just groaned in acknowledgment, but Dean took it as a good sign anyway. "Up and at um, dude, Pete's moving."

"You found him already?" Sam asked, finally pulling his arms away from his face.

"What can I say, I'm just that good." Dean smirked, helping his younger brother to stand. Dean could feel Sam's weakness radiating through him, his little brother's shoulders slumped, body leaning heavily against him. They were running out of time, and Dean knew it.

"You think you're up for this?" Dean asked when Sam finally found his footing, pushing away from his brother and rubbing his forehead.

"Yeah, I'm good. Let's just get this over with." Sam stated, though his eyes were still closed tight.

Dean knew he was lying, knew Sam had barely the strength to stand let alone hike up a hill and face down whatever this really was. But, he also knew that they didn't have the time to argue about it. He gave his brother another long look before scooping up their bags with his good arm, and following Sam out the door of the boxcar.

They both scanned the area around him, Dean spotting Pete a few seconds after they left the train. He cut through the growing crowd as fast as he could, trying to stay to the back of the group. But they were like bulls in a china shop. No matter what they did, Dean could feel eyes on him; the nasty sensation that he was being watched flooding through him. They were in enemy territory, and he knew it. At that moment, however, Dean didn't care. His brother was sick, dying, and he couldn't think about anything other then stopping it.

Dean pulled Sam by his sleeve, hurrying his brother as the younger man stumbled. He knew Sam needed to lay down, knew he needed to rest, but they just couldn't stop, and that broke the older Winchester's heart. He was supposed to be there for Sammy, supposed to keep him safe, but now he was doing just the opposite. Dean released his hold on his brother's jacket when they broke the tree line, Sam breathing harder then he should have for such a short walk.

"You alright, dude?"

"Yeah, just give me a minute."

"Look, Sammy. You stay here, I'm gonna go up to the cabin and see what Pete's up to."

"Dean, you can't."

"I'll be fine, Sam. Just hang out here, and shoot anything that gets too close."

"Dean--." Sam began, struggling to his feet. But Dean just spun around, shooting his brother a look that told him there was no room for argument.

"Sit down and wait for me."

"I'm not a dog."

"Don't think I won't tie you to that tree."

"Whatever, just be careful, Dean. And if it looks like you're in over your head, leave."

"Yeah, yeah." Dean added, waiving his brother off before heading off in the same direction as Pete.

The woods were heavy and silent, the underbrush so dense, that Dean stumbled on more then one occasion. He could tell that this wasn't going to be easy, and he knew that Sam wouldn't have been able to make the trek. Well, he would have, but it probably would have taken him a week. Dean slowed as he neared the old house, his keen eyes surveying the structure. It had definitely seen better days. He guessed that when Kathy had gotten married, she'd moved away from the place she had once called home.

The porch was crooked and breaking, the front door hanging off its hinges, swing back and forth in the ghostly breeze. Most, if not all of the windows were broken, and the roof was a patchwork of broken shingles and gaping holes. All in all, the place looked like it was about to crumble to the ground. The perfect place to practice dark magic. It was always the same; bad guys just seemed to have really lousy realtors.

Dean slipped his gun from his waistband. He was a good shot with either hand, that his father made sure of, but Dean still hated holding the weapon with his left; it just felt wrong to him. He shook off the feeling, slowly making his way towards the old house. He knew Pete was in there, he could feel it deep down in his bones. It was like a weird sixth sense, like super high tune hunting instincts. He could tell his prey was there, just by the way the air felt.

It was good, though, and Dean knew it. It kept him on guard, kept him sharp, and those were two things he knew he would need to get through this stupid hunt. It was all tied to Kathy and Benjamin, of that Dean was certain, but Raven and Pete were in on it, too, and that, Dean just couldn't figure out. How had Pete gone and gotten himself involved? And what exactly did Raven know? There were just too many questions, and too few answers. Why was this thing going after Sam, and why the hell did it think he was Pete? And why did all the creepy riders keep staring at him? It was all too much, and Dean wanted answers.

He stealthily made his way into the house, the sagging floor creaking and moaning beneath his weight, small tendrils of dust rising up to meet him. He could see a path cut through the old floor; foot print tracking through the dust like it was snow. It was obvious to him that Pete hadn't been expecting visitors, but Dean remained on his guard none the less. Too many things had happened on their short 'easy' hunt, and Dean wasn't about to let anything else get in his way. He had to end this, and now.

He followed the footprints, walking slowly as they wrapped around the small kitchen, heading towards the open basement door. Ok, so maybe a little too easy. But Dean needed answers, and he needed them sooner rather then later. He had no idea if that thing could leave the train, and he was silently cursing himself for leaving Sam behind. Yeah, he knew it would be easier to get what he needed out of Pete without Sam around, but leaving his brother in the forest still hurt the older hunter.

He pushed the idea from his mind. Sam was alright, he was an adult, he could handle himself. Right now, Dean had bigger fish to fry. He paused at the top of the stairs, peering down into the darkness below. He wanted to use his flashlight, but he knew that would tip off Pete in a second. No, he had to do this one blind, there was no other option.

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Sam leaned against the large tree trunk, eyes closed, shotgun on his lap. He felt awful. No, awful was too good a word, he felt like something awful chewed up and spit back out. Every nerve in his body hurt. He could feel the tremors that had taken over his body growing stronger and stronger with each passing moment. He was hot and freezing at the same time, his head feeling like it was going to explode. At that moment, some one could have shot him and he probably would have been thankful. And while he hated the idea of Dean going it alone, he also knew that he wouldn't be any help to him. Hell, he could barely even stand up, let alone go up against whatever the hell they were up against.

All thought was pushed from Sam's mind a moment later, his body tensing, hand snaking around the gun. He'd heard something, he was sure of it. Someone was out in the forest, watching him, and now they were approaching. Sam listened to the footsteps, his eyes remaining closed, breathing even and relaxed. To the casual observer, he looked like he was out cold. He just hoped it was enough to trick whoever or whatever was on its way.

Sam stayed as still as he could for several long moments, listening as the footfalls grew closer, waiting for just the right moment. He wasn't in any condition to fight and his gun was loaded with rock salt; so really he had to get this right the first time. He strained his ears, listening to the crunch of the leaves, the sound of breaking twigs. His stalker was getting closer, just a few more feet, a few more seconds, and they'd be in arm's reach. And, an instant later, Sam struck.

He lashed out with the speed of a cobra, his arm darting forward, grabbing the person before him by the knee and pulling them to the ground. He opened his eyes a second later, moving forward, pinning his attacker to the ground.

"Please." A shaky voice broke through the commotion, causing Sam to still, though he still held the woman before him to the ground. "Please, I'm trying to help you."

"Oh yeah? Like leaving my brother under a pile of crates?"

"You have to keep him safe, you have to leave this place." Raven spoke, and Sam could hear the sheer desperation in her voice.

"Why?" He asked a few moments later, releasing his grip on the older woman, and slumping back against the tree. Even that short little burst had stolen most of his waning energy.

"He's in danger. You both are."

"You know what's going on? What's killing people?"

"Yes."

"And you haven't stopped it."

"I've tried. But it's more then I can handle. It's all gotten too far out of control. Please, just leave."

"Why me? Why Dean?"

"Please."

"I'm not going to leave and let innocent people die. Everyone, they were all younger brothers."

Sam knew he was right by the look in the old woman's haunted eyes. She knew exactly what was happening and why, and she just sat back and did nothing.

"It's a Cur, isn't it." Sam pressed, knowing Raven held all the answers.

"That's what it began life as."

"What?"

"Kathy summoned it, used it to torture Benjamin, to drive him mad."

"And?"

"And, it worked. That was until she learned the truth."

"What truth?"

"That it was Pete all along."

"Benjamin wanted to take her away, to keep her safe." Sam began, amazed that Raven didn't even bat an eye at the information he had.

"Yes, he did." She spoke softly, a sad smile on her face. "He thought he could save her from the world, to shield her from all the bad. But no human can do that."

"Pete talked him out of it, why?"

"Because Pete was in love with her. Well, he called it love, I called it lust. He wanted her, and he knew that if his brother took her away, he would never have the chance. Because, if Benjamin was one thing, it was fiercely protective. Once Kathy was under his charge, Pete knew there would be no way to have her."

"So he tricked his brother?"

"Yes."

"And you let him."

"You have to understand. I'd known Pete longer, and I knew what Benjamin wanted to do was impossible. I thought it was right."

"Did Pete ever try anything with her?"

"No, not that I know of. She was so angry afterwards, so different. Honestly, I think he was afraid. And then, the nightmares started, and Pete knew it was her, knew she'd done something to his brother. And so, one day a few years ago, he confronted her about it."

"He killed her."

"I don't know if he meant to or not, but yes, he did."

"But the killings didn't start till a few months later."

"Pete kept going back up to that house. I don't know why. He was always so on edge after Kathy, so wound up in his own personal hell. I don't know what he did, but he changed something that night.

Benjamin, he figured it out though, knew it had been his brother. The last I saw him, he was following Pete up to the house. And then, a few hours later Pete came back screaming, dragging his brother behind him, dead."

"Raven, do you think Pete killed his brother?"

"I don't know what to believe anymore. But, after that night, the creature appeared."

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Dean walked slowly and cautiously down the basement stairs, his eyes tracked every shadow, studying ever move the darkness made. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, gun trained ahead of him. There, at the far side of the room, bend down over an alter, was Pete. He didn't seem to care that Dean was in the room, he just continued on doing whatever it was he was doing, his voice nothing but a low, repetitive whisper.

"I'd quit it with the chanting if I were you."

"You're not me."

"Yeah. It was just a phrase, you know." Dean countered, moving slowly into the room, a bit unnerved by Pete's calm demeanor.

"Do you know the easiest way to capture your prey?"

"Uh, no. Enlighten me."

"You just lay down a trail it couldn't possibly miss." Pete answered, turning, his face an unreadable mask.

Dean moved forward, but found himself trapped, his body unable to move in either direction. He looked down at his feet, cursing as he read the inscriptions written around him, carved into the stone floor in a perfect circle. Th chanting, the sigils, it had all been a trap, and he'd walked right into it.

"You got me, what do you want?" Dean asked, his mind still trying to find some way out of his current mess.

"To set things right."

"Hey, dude, I've got no problems with you. Except, you know, some creepy bug dude thinks my brother's you and is trying to kill him."

"So you know."

"That it's actually been after you for the past couple years. Yeah, I put two and two together. What I want to know is why?"

"It was a mistake."

"Yeah, then fix it."

"I am."

"I'm not gonna let my brother die."

"And neither am I."

"News flash, buddy, he's worm food already."

Pete just laughed before turning back to the alter, moving a few things around the wooden platform as he began to once again chant. Dean could feel the hairs on the back in his neck stand on end as an icy wind began to blow through the space. He raised his gun and fired, trying to stop Pete from finishing his chant. But, much to his dismay, the gun refused to work, the metal hanging in his hand like a paper weight.

"Son of a bitch." Dean mumbled, stowing the firearm. He was now very much beyond screwed. He could feel the winds picking up around him, the old structure creaking and shifting beneath the force of it. If it didn't stop soon, the entire place was going to come down on top of them.

"Yo, Pete, this place isn't safe." Dean yelled above the growing torrent.

"It doesn't matter." Pete began, turning towards Dean, a dagger in his hand.

"So, you don't mind being squished. Because I gotta say, it would really ruin my day."

"Life and death are trivial. I just need him back."

"Need who back?"

"Benjamin."

"Dude, he died five years ago."

"In body yes, but his spirit's still here."

"Bug man? That's your brother?"

"Part of it is. It was a mistake. He shouldn't have followed me. I was fixing it, I had it taken care of, he shouldn't have followed me."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"She was too good for him, too beautiful to be hidden away. She wasn't some treasure that needed to be locked up, she was a person, she needed to see the world."

"Oh man, if you tell me this is all about a girl, I'm gonna smack you."

"She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. He shouldn't have been able to take her from the world."

"You told him to leave her?"

"I didn't want her locked away."

"Oh yeah, that's great. But you do know you turned her all psycho instead."

"I didn't know. I tried to stop her, but she didn't listen. She tried to fight back."

"You killed her?" Dean asked, anger lacing his every word. Kathy was killed because of a love triangle she didn't even know about.

"It was a mistake. She set that thing on me, what was I supposed to do?"

"Let it kill you, ya lying pack of shit."

"I was doing what was best for her."

"Obviously not. So, the thing still came after you, didn't it?"

"I found a way to control it. To stop it."

"By making it feed off of other people's brothers."

"It never killed."

"Nope, not till you blew Ben away with it."

"It was an accident!" Pete screamed, his eyes taking on a crazed glint.

"So how're you planning on fixing it." Dean pushed, hoping to make the old man stumble, to force a mistake.

"A trade."

"What?"

"I found a way, I just needed the right person. And you're so right, Dean."

Dean's eyes widened in horror, his body tensing. He could feel it breathing down the back on his neck, saliva from its razor sharp teeth dripping down over his shoulder. He turned slowly on the spot, green eyes coming to rest on the sadistic red glow of the Cur's empty eye sockets. And the elder Winchester knew in that instant, that time was up.


	15. Chapter 15

_Well everyone, here it is. the final chapter of In Transit. another story finished... it's always a little sad to see them go. lol. thank you all so much for the great, great reviews and for sticking with the story, I hope everyone enjoyed the ride!!_

**IN TRANSIT**

Chapter 15

Sam stumbled, cursing as he fell forward once again. He needed to get to Dean, needed to make sure his brother was ok; but everything seemed to be trying to keep the pair apart. It was the story of their lives. Everything always tried to break them up, to steal one from the other, and Sam for one was getting tired of it. He shrugged off Raven's hand, pushing himself back to his feet. His entire body was shaking, his head throbbing, mind continuing to slip back into the nightmares. All he wanted to do was lay down and give into the void. But Dean needed him, he could feel it, and Sam refused to let his brother fall victim to whatever Pete had planned.

No, too much had been lost in the night, too much had been left in the dust, abandoned along the dusty road that was their lives. Too much had vanished, and Sam refused to let his brother slip away as well, refused to let the darkness claim someone else he loved. But time was running out, he could sense it, the minutes slipping away from him, running through his hands like water. He was losing, and he could feel every second of it.

"There." Raven stated, pointed to a dilapidated house sitting precariously on the hill.

Sam's moment a relief was short lived however; a gust of wind roaring through the canyon so strong, that it caused the still distance house the creak and moan, shingles and siding falling from the structure as the gale continued. The entire place was going to fall to the ground in a matter of minutes, and Dean was still inside.

Sam summoned what little strength he had, willing himself up the steep and muddy hill. He needed to get inside the house, needed to find his brother. Suddenly, the nightmares started again, so fierce that the younger Winchester was certain the Cur was near. He could sense it, feel it wrapping around his mind, driving deep into his soul, tearing away what little strength he had left. But this time, instead of seeing his brother beneath the train, he saw Dean standing in a darkened basement, Pete watching him with a crazed eye, knife in hand. And, at that moment Sam realized that this nightmare was actually in the process of coming true. He was going to watch his brother die through the eyes of the creature.

"No." Sam moaned, forcing himself to focus, his knees sinking in the soft mud beneath him. _When did I fall?_ He blinked several times, his breath coming out in short, uneven gasps. He wouldn't let his brother go, wouldn't let Dean vanish from the world, disappearing on a cold set of train tracks. "It's there." Be bit out, forcing himself to his feet.

"What's there?"

"The Cur, it's at the house with Pete and Dean."

"How do you know?"

"Just, trust me." Sam mumbled, summoning what little energy he could, pushing his way back up the hill, back to Dean.

"If that's true, then you need to leave."

"Not without my brother."

"Then you'll both die."

"You don't know my brother and me." Sam stated confidently as they neared the house. It was true, where most hunters failed, where most hunters fell, Sam and Dean pulled through.

The young hunter stalked around the side of the house, following the footprints left in the mud. Two sets, Pete and Dean. His suspicions were right, his brother was in there with Pete, the man responsible for this whole stupid mess. The same man that seemed to have an unnatural interest in Dean. Sam still couldn't figure out why Pete wanted his brother, still couldn't find the link between the creature and Dean. But the link between the Cur and Benjamin, that was glaring.

Pete had done something up at the house, tried to work the magic Kathy had learned. But, somewhere along the way it backfired. Benjamin was the Cur and the Cur was Benjamin; the two being bound when Pete killed his brother. And now, well now the Cur was trapped, unable to leave because of its link to a still bound spirit. So, it did what it had been summoned to do, kill Ben's younger brother, although now, the thing just seemed to be confused. It was killing all younger brothers, regardless whether they belonged to Ben or not, and the only way to stop it was to release the spirit that had become trapped within.

And suddenly, with gut-wrenching clarity, Sam knew what Pete was up to. He didn't care if the Cur stopped killing, didn't care if it existed or not. No, all he wanted, all he could think about was freeing his brother, and that meant putting someone else in his place. Pete was going to trade the two out.

They were out of time, Sam could feel it deep in his soul. Pete was going to kill his brother, and then he was going to force the Cur into his spirit, rob his soul of peace, of safety. He was going to turn Dean into a killer, and Sam could feel every second as it slipped away. He had to get to Dean, had to stop it all, but he wasn't sure he had the strength to meet the Cur face to face.

6666666666

Dean stood motionless, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of the creature. But, instead of advancing, instead of ripping his body apart, it just stood there, studying him the way a toddler studied animals in a zoo. It was the weirdest thing Dean had ever experienced, and that was saying something. It was almost like the thing was trying to understand him, like it was trying to see who he truly was, to look into his soul. And Dean hated every second of it.

The older Winchester tried to move back, to step away from the creature, but he was held firmly in place by whatever trap Pete had managed to set. Dean's mind was running a mile a minute, trying to find some way out of the mess, some way out of the slowly crumbling building. But, all he could think about, all he could focus on was the Cur. It was like its eyes were bottomless pools of sorrow, of mistakes, of missed chances. He could see Benjamin in it, see the trapped soul, the broken brother. He could almost hear him, too, begging for release, for safety and for answers.

Ben had been just as in the dark as Kathy, both being nothing more then pawns in Pete's twisted life. Dean could sense the defeat rolling off the creature in waves, the sorrow almost deafening, pain drowning him. Mistakes, that's all they were, mistakes that piled up over time, festered over the years, and now, another mistake was about to be added to the mixture. Dean knew they didn't have all the facts, and he had known since before he and Sam had even gotten on the train. It was a mistake to rush into it, and now, Dean feared, it was a mistake he would never be able to fix.

He tore his eyes away from the creature, spinning back around when he felt a presence behind him. Dean ducked just in time, Pete swinging the dagger at him for all he was worth. The old man tottered and swayed at the edge of the ring, but kept himself from falling into his own trap. Dean cursed, kicking out at the man when he lunged again, his foot only able to make contact with Pete's hand. He couldn't get to him, could reach outside the two foot circle he was trapped in. And Dean knew that he could only bob and weave so many times, before Pete made contact.

"You can't win." Pete bit out, trying once again to slash Dean.

"Why do the bad guys always say that?"

"Just give in."

"Yeah, right." Dean growled, hitting Pete's arm with such force that the man slide across the room.

Pete just sat there, rubbing his arm, his eyes cutting through the defiant hunter before him. Dean couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine, the icy breath of the Cur snaking over his shoulders, chilling him to the bone. It was almost as though the beast was waiting for orders, waiting to be led. But Dean didn't look at it, didn't break eye contact with Pete.

"You know." Pete began, still hanging back. "I could always to this the hard way."

"Oh yeah, because the easy way is such a walk in the park."

"You're not going to win. But, if you would rather both you and your brother die, then it can be arranged."

"Leave Sam out of this." Dean tried to stalk forward, his anger boiling. Sam was already hurt, already falling at the hands of the creature, already suffering because of someone else's mistake, and Dean wasn't going to let him suffer any more.

"I will, if you would stop fighting the inevitable."

"My brother and I aren't just gonna lay down and die."

"That's exactly what you'll do if you don't cooperate. No one knows you're here, no one knows about your brother. I could send the Cur after him, let it finish him. Then I could just leave you here. Do you know how long a person can survive without food or water?"

Dean just glared at the man before him, his anger coming off him in waves. Dean felt like an animal trapped in a cage, pacing back and forth, waiting for his chance to break free, to strike. He had to figure out a way out, had to find a weakness, a flaw in the plan. Because, there was no way he was gonna let Pete beat him.

"You can't effect the world outside that circle. Not as a living being, anyway." Pete answered, almost as though he was reading Dean's mind.

_Well, there goes plan A. _Dean thought, shifting from one foot to the other. "So, you got me. Now what? Gonna feed me to your brother the monster?"

"I'm going to trade. You for Benjamin."

"Why can't you just let Ben go, I mean, the creature's already don't it's job."

"That doesn't seem to matter anymore. It's confused. See, it's still killing younger brothers, but it's also holding on to Ben's soul. But, if I trade it with someone similar, the Cur will never know the difference."

"And what happens if you don't trade at all? Just grab your brother and run."

"Then I'll die."

"So, basically. You're trying to get your brother out of this mess because you feel guilty, but you're not guilty enough to just lay down and die and let the thing go. That pretty much it?"

Pete just glared at Dean, his eyes never blinking, body twitching with barely controlled anger. Dean knew he was right, knew what was running through the older man's head, but at that moment, it didn't mean anything. Pete was still going through with it and Dean was still trapped like a rat in a cage.

Dean stepped back on instinct when Pete began to approach, the hunter hitting the unseen force around him, unable to move more then a few inches. From the looks of it, the old man was done talking and seemed to be going back to his 'shooting fish in a barrel' mentality. And Dean knew, at that instant, that he was beyond screwed. He held his breath, Pete advancing on him with surprising speed. Once again, Dean bobbed before sliding as far to the side as he could, dodging the knife again.

He cursed beneath his breath when he felt the cool metal slice through his shoulder. He reached out with his left arm a second later, hoping to pull Pete into the circle as well, but once again he was too late. It was like something had taken over the rider, the old man moving faster then he should have; and it was really starting to piss Dean off. He regained his senses a second later, trying to push off the ground, his right arm both broken and cut. But, he was a fraction of a second too late, and he knew it.

Dean looked up into Pete's crazed eyes, the knife glinting in the light as it came down. Dean curled in on himself, doing his best to protect his head and neck. He could feel the Cur behind him, feel the cold air as it wrapped around him, digging into him, mere seconds before the knife. But, an instant before the knife met its mark, a gunshot rang out. Dean barely had a second to react before the Cur plunged, the icy air assaulting his skin as it move within inches of him. But, instead of stealing his soul, instead of forcing him into nightmares, it went for Pete.

Dean raised his head, watching Pete as he inched his way back across the floor, arm holding his bleeding side, his terror filled eyes locked on the Cur. The creature advanced with unimaginable speed, wrapping its arms around Pete, its nails digging into his head. Pete writhed on the floor, his hair turning whiter and whiter as he screamed, but Dean was powerless to stop it. All he could do was watch, still trapped in his small prison, the events happening around him painfully out of his control.

A few seconds later, and it was all over. Pete lay dead a few feet before him, the Cur slowly dissipating, leaving the spirit of Benjamin behind. It was a strange and solemn moment, Benjamin standing still and silent, soft eyes staring down at the body of his dead brother. There was no sadness in his eyes, no judgment, no indifference. It was just a man, just a spirit, just a brother watching over another brother as if he didn't understand, didn't see how things had come to be. And, a moment later, he was gone, vanishing in a single gust of wind, leaving a silent world in his wake.

"Dean?" Sam's weak voice broke through the heavy air.

Dean slid around on the floor, turning back towards the steps. The entire world had stopped in those few short seconds after the gunshot, but now, well now time seemed to be rushing by him. Sam was sitting on the steps, his lanky body leaning heavily on the rail, eyes closed, gun in hand. His skin was frighteningly pale, blood running from his nose, but he seemed to be breathing easier then he had been, and a few seconds later he opened his eyes, a small smile on his face.

"You just gonna sit there?"

"Uh, actually yeah."

"What?" Sam asked a moment later, his eyes sliding closed again.

"It's some kind of trap. I can't move."

"Are you serious?"

"No, Sam, I'm joking."

"Hang on." Sam mumbled, pushing himself to his feet.

It was only then that Dean noticed Raven; the old woman standing at the top of the stairs, her dark eyes locked on Pete. It was like she was frozen, the shock of what she had just seen stealing her breath away. She had known about it, all of it, but that didn't seem to have lessened the shock. She had known them, back when they were just men, just brothers, and she had seen what time and tragedy did to them. And Dean couldn't begin to imagine what she was now going through.

"Dean, what the hell?" Sam asked, nearing one of the candles. There were two rings drawn on the floor, a small one containing Dean, and another surrounding the candles. And, much to Dean's dismay, that seemed to be keeping them out of everyone's reach.

"Please tell me you can get me out of here, Sam."

"Uh. Give me a minute."

"Sam, I don't have a minute, this entire place is gonna fall to the ground."

"I think I have to put the candles out." Sam began, ignoring Dean as he looked through a book on the alter.

"Thanks for the head's up."

"Dude, I can't get at them."

"Blow um out, dude." Dean began, getting antsy despite himself. He was really getting tired of standing in a two foot circle.

"You try blowing them out." Sam countered, rubbing his forehead.

"You need holy water." Raven began suddenly, her voice quiet, yet still sharp.

"What?" Dean growled back, his anger rising again. She had known what Pete was planning, had helped him set up the rings, had lured them there.

"Holy water." She said again, still not moving from the stairs.

"How do you know?" Sam asked slowly, obviously coming to the same conclusion as Dean.

"You have to understand, I was just trying to help."

"Help what, kill my brother?"

"Please, Sam. I tried to talk Pete out of it, I tried—–."

"It doesn't matter anymore." Sam bit out, his eyes never leaving the woman. "Just hand me my bag."

"Why?"

"There's holy water in the side pocket."

Raven just stared at them. It was obvious to Dean that she had questions to ask, but one look at the brothers made her keep silent. She had done too much to them, too much to others, and now, after seeing the fates of Ben and Pete, it seemed as though Raven finally understood.

Sam poured holy water on all five candles, finally breaking Dean of the trap. It was a solemn victory to say the least. Two men were dead, brothers; and countless others had lost their lives all because of one man's love, and another man's secrets. It was a lose, lose situation, and the fact that he and Sam managed to walk from the crumbling house with only a few bruises was little compensation.

"Dude, I hope I never see a train again." Dean mumbled, holding a make shift gauze to his bleeding shoulder.

"Yeah? Then how are we gonna get back to the impala?"

"Son of a bitch."


End file.
